


Blood isn't Everything

by phoenixhp5



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 62,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixhp5/pseuds/phoenixhp5
Summary: Rafael is put in an uncomfortable position when his father (yes, he’s alive) is brought in by SVU for a rape charge. Rafael hates his father and believes he did it, but his mother insists it never happened. His loyalty to his mother and blood pushes him to stand with his family even when it pits him against Olivia and the rest of SVU. Definite Rafael whump.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 117
Kudos: 112





	1. Accused

**A/N: This is my first foray into the SVU world and I’m so excited and nervous! I’ve binge watched every season except the current and fell in love with the wonderfully brilliant Rafael Barba! I’ve watched all his episodes nearly three times. I love his relationship with Olivia and hope to god he comes back.**

**Through the episodes I’ve seen, I know Barba hates his dad, and it may be implied that he’s abusive. For my fic, his father is alive and was abusive to both him and his mom. Lucia did what she could to protect Rafa, but she always sided with her husband and never left him. Takes place season 19, pre- _Undiscovered Country._**

**Chapter 1: Accused**

**Rafael’s POV:**

The loud shrill of my cell phone jerked me out of my sleep, and I groaned loudly as I blindly reached out a hand for the blasted machine. Grabbing hold of it, I quickly pressed the answer key, putting the phone to my ear without checking who had called.

“Barba,” I grunted out irritably, barely keeping from cursing the person out.

“Rafi, _mijo_ ,” my mom called, her voice scared and tearful, “I need your help. Your _papi_ needs your help.”

All sleep was wiped from me as I sat up, and I was halfway out of my bed when the rest of her sentence registered.

“ _Mami,_ are you okay?” I quickly pressed, ignoring the part about my father.

“ _Sí, sí, estoy bien, pero tu papa´necesita tu ayuda,_ ” she repeated, and I sighed heavily, feeling irritated. She knew I hated the old man, so why would she ever think I would do anything to help him?

“ _Mami_ , I don’t care what he needs help with”—

“Rafael, listen to me!” she snapped, and I closed my eyes as I squeezed the phone tightly.

“Okay, _dime_ ,” I gave in, lying back on my bed.

“Manuel has been accused of rape,” she stated agitatedly, and my eyes flew open in shock.

“Some _niña_ that works for him accused him of raping her, and the police just arrested him!” she explained. “ _Te lo prometó, hijo,_ that he didn’t do it! I know how you feel about your father, and I know he’s no _santo, pero_ he’s not a rapist! I mean, he-he-he needs pills just to”—

I rapidly shook my head, quickly cutting her off before she could finish that horrifying thought.

“Take a breath, please, and start from the beginning,” I directed, my mind buzzing with chaotic thoughts.

I heard her take several deep, shaky breaths before she began to speak once more, her voice stronger and more assured. “One of the girls that works at Manny’s restaurant went to the cops yesterday saying that Manny raped her the night before. Twenty minutes ago the police, your _friends_ , barged in here and arrested him!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose tightly, already feeling the beginnings of a headache building.

“My friends?” I asked, already knowing what she meant, but needing her to confirm.

“ _Sí!”_ she exclaimed impatiently. “Those special victim whatever they’re called, dragged your _papi_ out like some criminal, and wouldn’t even listen to me! I told them you were my son, and they acted like they’d never heard of me!”

I withheld a groan, dragging myself out of bed in search of my migraine medicine. Out of the entire SVU, only Olivia knew anything about my family, and even then, it wasn’t much. I’d told her my father was abusive and that my mother was still with him, but other than that, she knew more about my _Abuelita_ , who’d died a couple years ago than anyone else.

My mother went on a rant about how she couldn’t believe my friends knew nothing about her, and wondered if I was ashamed (I was, but I wouldn’t admit that).

“ _Mami,_ okay, enough, uh, what do you want me to do?” I straight up asked.

“Keep him out of prison!” she replied as if it should have been obvious. “Tell that lieutenant you talk so much about that Manny would _never_ do anything like this, and that they have the wrong man!”

“It doesn’t work that way,” I argued weakly, already knowing she wouldn’t listen or even believe me. “Liv won’t tell me anything since I’m related to the accused, and I’m a prosecutor, not a defense attorney, and even if I were, I wouldn’t be allowed to defend him.”  
“You’re a lawyer, Rafi, so you know people who can help,” was the response I received, and while she wasn’t wrong, that didn’t mean I wanted to help. Whether that man did it or not, I wanted nothing to do with this case, and I certainly didn’t want to call in favors for the bastard.

“ _Por favor, mijo_ ,” my mother begged softly, and I found myself giving in before I realized it.

“Okay, let me see what I can figure out,” I stated, already feeling sick to my stomach. “I’ll go down to the station and figure out what evidence they have.” I knew I wouldn’t get anything, but at least I could say I tried.

“Good, I’ll meet you there. Thank you,” she replied gratefully before hanging up.

Dismally staring at my phone, I saw it was 4:30 AM. I noticed several missed texts and a call from Olivia, but I ignored them, knowing what they’d be about. Quickly showering, I dressed in simple dress pants, dress shirt, and a jacket, foregoing my usual flair. Grabbing a coffee, I ordered an uber and made my way to SVU headquarters. On the drive over, I called Olivia, but she didn’t answer, so I left a message telling her what my mother had told me, and that I was coming to the station.

My stomach continued to churn uneasily the closer to SVU I got. I had never been big on sharing anything personal with anyone, no matter how close we got. Over the six years I worked at SVU, I’d come to consider them some of my closest friends. I was especially close to Olivia and would go so far as to say she was my best friend. We spent so many hours together through work and even out of work. It was pretty common to see me over at her place a couple nights a week, having dinner and hanging out with her and Noah.

I loved spending times with Olivia. I’ll admit to having found her extremely attractive when we first met, but I’d pushed those thoughts from my mind as I knew we’d be working together. The more I got to know her, though, the more I began to fall for her. Her strength, sense of humor, intelligence, and perseverance. She worked so hard to advocate for all victims that came to her, and she’d overcome so many hardships. She changed me. I was a better person because of her. Sometimes I wondered what it’d be like to pursue a romantic relationship with her, but then I’d brush those thoughts aside. I was content with the way things were now, and I would never want to jeopardize our friendship for something that might not work out. 

I arrived at SVU much faster than I wanted to and as I took the elevator up, I was disappointed yet unsurprised to find my heartbeat quickening. My palms were sweating, and I hastily wiped them on my pants while taking deep, calming breaths. I hadn’t seen my sperm donor in over ten years. He hadn’t even shown up to _Abuelita’s_ funeral, which I’d been thankful for. I never wanted to see that man again, yet we were now in the same building. 

I had a scheduled lunch with my mother 1-2 times a month, but it was never at her home, and never with _him_ around. We never even talked about him when we got together, because she knew how much I hated the man. I hated how she still continued to defend him, and how she still lived with him after everything he’d done, but I knew that bringing my feelings up only ever ended in arguments and months of no conversation. The only godsend seemed to be that Manuel Barba was keeping his hands to himself. I’d yet to catch my mother with a single bruise, but then again, neither he nor my mom would make the mistake of letting me see a bruise.

Stepping out of the elevator, I masked my anxiety and confidently strolled through the familiar surroundings. None of the detectives were at their desks when I arrived, so I assumed they’d been split between the victim and perp. Taking in a deep breath, I headed to Olivia’s office, knocking firmly before opening the door.

“Barba,” was all I heard from Liv as my visioned tunneled the second I saw my father. He was older, completely gray haired, but he still had the same dark eyes and smug look. He was speaking with Rollins and Fin, and he looked like he wasn’t worried at all. I honestly couldn’t tell if he really felt that way or if it was just a front. He was a good liar. I shoved my hands into my pockets when I felt them begin to tremble. The headache I’d been fighting seemed to come back full force.

“ _Rafa_ ,” Liv called, tone insistent as she stepped between me and the one-way mirror.

I blinked, my eyes focusing on her, immediately noticing the tightness around her eyes showing she was stressed and the furrowing of her brows showing her concern.

“My mother called,” I explained, and she nodded once as she closed her door and shut the blinds.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said softly, and I gave a grim smile before asking, “What can you tell me?”

The lieutenant pursed her lips before gesturing I take a seat on her couch. She sat down with me and looked me up and down.

“I’m fine, Liv, just tell me what he did,” I pleaded, not wanting to hear her concern or anything else.

“Yesterday, a young woman came in and accused her boss, Manuel Barba, of raping her.” she began to explain. “Honestly, I didn’t make the connection between you two even though you have the same last name. If I had, I would’ve called you sooner.”

I waved her concern away, not caring about this. Honestly, I was glad nobody had connected us two together.

“She’s eighteen and has worked at your father’s restaurant as a hostess and then waitress since she was sixteen. She’s admitted to being flirtatious at times, but only because Mr. Bar—er, Manuel would always comment how beautiful she was. Two nights ago, Manuel asked her to stay late to help close the restaurant. This wasn’t unusual, so the victim didn’t think much of it until Manuel cornered her in the kitchen. He kissed her at which point she pushed him away. He reacted violently and then…he raped her; or that’s what we’ve been told.”

“Is she okay? How badly did he hurt her?” I inquired, deeply concerned as I knew how violent my dear _padre_ could get, especially when told no.

“She has a black eye and bruising from where she was grabbed,” Liv informed me in an almost delicate tone, and I knew she was carefully watching my every expression. There was nothing to see, though, as I kept my face entirely blank.

“She came in yesterday morning to disclose, at which point we got her to the hospital,” Liv continued to recount. “She first refused to admit who hurt her, but I eventually got her to tell me who it was late last night. Fin and Carisi went and picked him up, and he’s been here ever since.”

I nodded once, mind racing through all possibilities of how this could end.

A gentle hand on my knee brought me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to see Olivia’s concerned eyes.

“Do you think he did it?” I asked without thought, and she frowned before opening her mouth. Before she could say anything, though, I heard _Mami’s_ voice angrily demanding to see her husband. Closing my eyes briefly, I quickly got up and left the office, Olivia hot on my heels.

“Rafael,” she expressed in relief, running over and wrapping her arms around me.

“Have you seen him? _Está bien?_ You’ve told them he’s innocent, right?” she questioned rapidly, her eyes searching my face.

“No, _Mami_ , _todavía no le he visto_. The lieutenant was just telling me what happened,” I told her, and she narrowed her eyes before turning towards Olivia.

“Lieutenant, please, my Manny is not a rapist. Where is he? Let me speak with him,” she begged, and I felt anger flare up at how she continued to stand by that vile man. We both knew he was abusive. We both knew he was a womanizer, and that he’d cheated on her. Was it really that much of a stretch to think he’d rape someone? He’d always had a thing for younger woman, I recalled with disgust.

“Mrs. Barba, your husband is just fine. He’s currently speaking with two of my detectives explaining his side of what happened. I’m sorry, but you can’t see him right now,” Liv informed her calmly and compassionately. “

Why don’t you take a seat over here,” she suggested, gesturing to a chair next to Carisi’s desk. “Would you like something to drink? A coffee? Tea?” she offered, and I felt gratitude towards her kindness. I felt out of my depth here as I normally did when it involved Manuel.

“No, thank you, I’m fine,” _Mami_ replied frustratedly. “Do I need to get him a lawyer?” she pressed, looking first at Olivia, and then me.

Instead of answering, I flicked my gaze towards Liv, who answered, “That is your right.” Her eyes landed on me briefly before she excused herself and went back into her office. I childishly wanted to beg her to say or simply follow behind her, but I did neither.

“Call someone,” _Mami_ demanded, grabbing hold of my forearms. “You know people, and I know you can get him the best lawyer. _El es inocente, y tu lo sabes,_ ” she insisted, and I couldn’t keep the incredulous huff that escaped me.

“ _Inocente? Por Díos, Mami_ ,” I hissed exasperatedly, “we both know that he’s more than capable of having done this, and what reason would that girl have to lie? Have you heard about her injuries?” I attempted to reason, already knowing it was futile at the stubborn anger forming on her face. Sensing an impending outburst, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and quickly led her somewhere quieter and private.

“Rafael Eduardo Barba,” she began to lecture, and I couldn’t help but cringe. I may be nearly fifty years old, but I still felt slightly cowed at my mother using my full name.

“I know how you feel about your _papá,_ but he _is_ your _padre_ , and you should show some family loyalty. He helped raise you, kept you clothed and fed with a roof over your head. Manny has a temper, _lo sabemos_ , but he would _never_ rape anyone!” she exclaimed, giving me a strong poke to the chest. “Shame on you, _mijo_ , for thinking so poorly.”

Her words caused a cacophony of emotions to flow through me such as anger, embarrassment, and even guilt. How could she continue to defend him?! But maybe…maybe I was wrong. He had an awful temper, but he’d never raped anyone before. Was it possible I was allowing my hatred cloud my judgement? Could he really be innocent?

Innocent until proven guilty, I reminded myself. As much as I detested the man, I couldn’t automatically assume he was guilty. He had as much right as anyone to a good defense.

“I’m sorry, _Mami_ ,” I apologized quietly before pulling out my phone. Family loyalty was important, and while I felt no loyalty towards Manuel, I did feel it towards her. Lucia Barba was not the perfect mother, but she loved me, and I never doubted that.

Thinking quickly, I debated briefly on who to call. Rita Calhoun was my first thought, but she knew my father was abusive. She’d known me since college and had seen me return from Christmas break freshman year covered in bruises. We’d also had many late-night study sessions that had ended up more drinking binges than studying. Secrets were let out, and I may have stupidly talked about my home life with her. Rita and I had a vicious rivalry, but we considered each other friends, and her prior knowledge of my _padre_ could affect her defense. No, I needed someone who wouldn’t feel more loyal to me than _el viejo_.

The second person I thought of was John Buchanan, and I fought back a grimace. He was not someone I wanted to ask for help, but I couldn’t deny he was fantastic at his job. The more I thought on it, the more I realized that he would be the best defense attorney I could get for Manuel. Buchanan cared about winning, and he wouldn’t let feelings about his client or their crime influence how hard he fought for them. 

Lifting the phone to my ear, I swallowed back embarrassment at the conversation we would have. It wasn’t that I had anything against the man, it was just I never would’ve wanted him to be aware of my family’s dirty laundry. He’d have to be made aware of Manuel’s temper and abusiveness as whatever prosecutor the DA chose would no doubt discover it. Whether Olivia told them or not, they would surely discover it when speaking with anyone that knew him.

“Mr. Barba, to what do I owe the honor of such an early morning call?” Buchanan greeted jovially, and I took in a calming breath before informing him of the situation. I kept the conversation brief and to the point not allowing emotion to leak through. Buchanan only expressed a moment of surprise before agreeing to take the case. He was professional, which I was entirely grateful for.

“I assume you’ve ended the interview,” Buchanan stated, and I felt a flush of embarrassment when I answered negatively.

The older man gave a disbelieving chuckle before realizing I was being honest.

“I’m gonna chalk this up to emotional stupidity but stop that interview this second and I’ll be there in twenty,” he directed before hanging up.

“The lawyer will be here in 20,” I told my mother before hurrying over to Olivia’s office. I gave a quick knock before entering and at Olivia’s questioning look, I knocked on the cone-way mirror while saying, “This interview is over.”

Carisi and Fin walked in, and I immediately said, “Buchanan will be representing him, so until he arrives, you will no longer be interviewing Manuel.”

Looks were exchanged before Fin raised a questioning eyebrow as he said, “Buchanan? Really?”

“Alright, guys, go and check in with Rollins,” Liv directed, and the two left, but not before throwing me sympathetic looks.

“Is it alright if my mother goes inside?” I asked her, and she pursed her lips for several moments before nodding.

“Thank you, Rafi,” _Mami_ told me before quickly going into the interview room, leaving me and Olivia alone. She turned the microphone off so that we couldn’t hear what my parents were saying to each other.

“You asked me earlier whether I thought he did it,” she began softly, and I shook my head not wanting to hear her answer even though I knew what it’d be.

“He’s not a good man, I’ll be the first to admit,” I said, “but he’s not a rapist. Abusive bastard, but…,” I trailed off with a shake of my head.

A plethora of emotions crossed Olivia’s face before she replied, “You should go in there.”

I grimaced as I gave a negative shake. I had no idea what to say to her. I knew she didn’t believe me. I knew she would be actively working to put my father away. We would be on opposite sides this time.

“I’m sorry about this,” I felt the need to say, giving her a sad smile. She smiled back before walking over and grabbing hold of one of my hands.

“You know we won’t be able to talk about this case at all, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about anything else,” she stated, and I felt a wave of relief that this wasn’t pushing a wedge between us.

“I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you, but know that if you need someone to listen, I’m here,” she informed me with a kind smile.

“Thank you,” I replied, and she gave my hand a final squeeze before walking out and over towards her squad.

I let out a sigh, my shoulders sagging as I looked over at my parents. Manuel looked angry, and although it was the last thing I wanted to do, I walked into the room coming face to face with my boogeyman.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my famous lawyer son,” Manuel greeted, his arms spread wide. “So, this is what it takes for you to visit your _papá?_ Me being arrested? How many years has it been with no visits or phone calls?”

Not long enough, my mind supplied bitterly, but I knew better than to voice my real thoughts.

“ _Hola, Papá,_ ” I greeted congenially, not addressing his previous questions. “Your lawyer should be here any minute now. He’s good at his job, so just do what he says.”

His eyebrows went up, and he glanced at _Mami_ before looking back at me.

“Over ten years and that’s the greeting I get? No, ‘I missed you, _papi_ ,’‘how are you doing’ or maybe ‘are you okay’?” he pressed, sporting an expression of hurt I didn’t buy. _Mami_ looked between us two warily.

“ _Ándale, Rafi,_ give your father a hug,” _Mami_ urged, and I barely resisted giving her a dirty look before deciding it’d be easier to give in. I wasn’t a child anymore, so there was no reason to be so scared or nervous around Manuel. Besides, it had been a long time, and he could’ve calmed with age. Maybe he wasn’t the way he used to be. Maybe he wasn’t still ashamed and disgusted by me.

Forcing a small grin onto my face I walked over and hugged my former tormenter. He slapped me on the back once before pulling away and keeping his hands on my shoulders. His hands were gentle, and I forced myself to relax rather than tense up.

“Look at you, Rafael, it’s been too long,” _Papá_ remarked, and I couldn’t tell whether he was being genuine or not. “I see more of you on TV than in person, but I understand you’re a busy and important man, so _gracias, mijito_ , for taking time out of your busy schedule to come help me out.”

I felt completely off kilter as he appeared genuinely grateful for my help. He didn’t seem angry that I hadn’t visited or called him. He didn’t seem annoyed with me.

I was saved from having to reply when Buchanan walked in. I introduced him to my parents, happily allowing him to take control of the situation. He asked Manuel to give his recount, and unsurprisingly it was nothing like what the victim claimed. He admitted to being alone with the girl, but vehemently denied assaulting her.

“She’s like a daughter to me,” he asserted in disbelief. “I’ve known her since she was a little girl and I have no idea why she would accuse me of this. I told those detectives this, but they refused to believe me. _No entendio_ _nada_!” he directed towards me with frustration. “Are the men ever listened to or believed, or does innocent until proven guilty not apply anymore?”

Before I could answer, Buchanan spoke up, saying how disgusting and shameful it was that SVU detectives always assumed men were guilty.

“That’s not true and you know it,” I defended a bit harshly, not appreciating how he was putting down my friends. “We never prosecute unless there’s evidence.”

“And what evidence is there in this case?” the attorney directed towards me with raised eyebrows.

I raised a disbelieving eyebrow back at him as I replied, “You know they’re not allowed to tell me anything.” He was disappointed, yet unsurprised by my response.

Buchanan then asked my father if he had any evidence supporting his claim. Security cameras? Anyone to alibi?

Manuel shook his head, complaining how his security cameras were just for show. “It’s too expensive to have surveillance, and I’m barely making ends meet as it is.” He eyed me at this point, looking as though he were about to chide me for not helping out, but my mother placed a soft hand on his forearm, rubbing it before addressing Buchanan.

“The restaurant closes at 9 PM and Manuel was home by 10 as he is every night,” she stated. “I assure you, Mr. Buchanan, that my husband is _not_ a rapist.”

“Of course, Mrs. Barba,” Buchanan agreed easily, giving her a kind smile. I wasn’t sure whether he believed her or not, but I knew it didn’t matter. He’d fight tooth and nail for father no matter his guilt.

“Well, let’s see what evidence the detectives have against you,” Buchanan declared. “I need you to let me speak for you, Mr. Barba, and only answer questions I give the go-ahead for, and even then, give the bare minimum. No need handing them information they can manipulate.”

Manuel nodded in understanding before giving me a questioning look as if looking for assurances. Despite my shock, I managed to give him a nod to show my support of the defense attorney’s plan.

Buchanan stood up, and I gestured for my mother to come with me. She argued that she wanted to stay, but I informed her that wouldn’t be possible.

“But you can stay, can’t you?” she asked, and I replied that I didn’t think so.

“I’ll ask, but if not, know you can trust Mr. Buchanan. He’ll take care of _papá,_ ” I promised her, and only then did she agree to leave.

When we entered the squad room, Olivia approached us where Buchanan informed her we were ready to speak. She nodded, calling Fin and Carisi to return to interrogation.

“Liv, would it be possible for me to go in?” I asked, knowing it was an unfair question as I was obviously asking for a favor.

“Rafa,” she answered, “you know you can’t, _but_ I’ll allow you to watch.”

“Thank you,” I returned, giving her a grateful smile. We entered her office, closed the door, and she flipped the switch so we could hear what was going on inside the interrogation room.

They recapped over what the victim, Sara Perez, said, and then Manuel gave his account. Buchanan demanded to know what evidence there was against his client, and I listened intently, desperately wanting to know if he really did this. While this morning I’d been certain, now I wasn’t so sure. Even though I felt this way, I was still stunned by the rush of relief I felt when I realized they had nothing but Ms. Perez’s word. There was no DNA evidence and no eyewitness testimony.

I side-glanced at Olivia whose eyes were narrowed and lips pressed tightly together. Her arms were crossed, and I knew she thought he was guilty, lack of evidence be damned.

“Gut feeling?” I had to ask, and she simply gave me a bland look that basically said, ‘don’t ask me that’. That lone told me she did, and I felt my stomach twist. Her gut feelings had rarely ever been wrong, and I felt myself hoping this was one of those times. I still hated the man, but my mother loved him, and it would destroy her if her husband was a rapist.

Once the lack of evidence was revealed, Buchanan smiled smugly declaring that him and his client would be leaving then if no charges were being brought up. Both exited the room, my father smirking before coming over and wrapping an arm around me. I tensed, but he didn’t let go, instead leading me out of the room while ruffling my hair. I had no idea how to react to this uncharacteristic display of affection, so I mutely allowed the man to guide me.

“No charges,” Manuel announced to _Mami_ , and she smiled brightly before wrapping her arms around both of us. I fought a blush at the looks we were getting, especially when I noticed the smirk of amusement on Buchanan’s face. I barely kept from growling a smart-ass remark as I owed him. Instead, I held out a hand thanking him for his help. He replied that it was his pleasure, and to reach out when, not if, the detectives pursued the case.

“Come on, chico, let’s go and celebrate,” _Papá_ declared, “we have lots to catch up on. A look at his and _Mami’s_ face revealed that there was no getting out of this, so against my better wishes I agreed.


	2. Evidence

**Chapter 2: Evidence**

I walked into my home, over to my couch and just collapsed onto it with a weary groan. Today had been a nightmare. There was no evidence against Manuel now, but I knew SVU wasn’t dropping the case. They were tenacious, and if my father really raped that girl, they would find the evidence.

Dinner with my parents had been awkward and confusing. Not because Manuel was a bastard, but because he was downright kind to me. Not a single negative word was said, even when _Mami_ went to the restroom and we were alone. He seemed genuinely interested in me and had even declared himself to be proud of all I had achieved.

I was embarrassed by the part of me that was pleased by the interactions. The boy in me that constantly strived and yearned for his father’s love and approval flared to life. I thought this part of me had died long ago, but clearly not.

Had he really changed?

I was highly doubtful. Men like him didn’t change that much, especially without help, which I knew he never would’ve sought out.

Was it just gratefulness for my help? An act for _Mami’s_ benefit? Whatever it was, he’d expressed a desire to see me again, claiming he wanted to have a relationship with me and make up for how hard he’d been on me as a child.

Hard on me? How about downright abusive? Hard didn’t leave physical and mental scars. Hard didn’t cause me to tense when he touched me and flinch when he moved too quickly. Despite our interactions today, I wouldn’t mind going another decade before seeing him again.

I rubbed two hands over my face and had to resist the urge to call Olivia. As my best friend I always reached out when I needed someone to talk to, but now, when I knew she was actively trying to put Manuel away…it just didn’t seem right. I couldn’t have her stressing over my feelings when she was trying to do her job.

My phone began to ring, and I huffed when I saw it was Rita calling. Wonderful. I ignored her call, but immediately received a text that said: _Answer your phone, Barba or I’ll come over. You know I will._

I rolled my eyes before deciding to just answer when my phone rang again. God knew I didn’t want her knocking down my door when I refused to let her in.

“What?” I answered irritably, making it clear I didn’t want to talk.

“Wow, someone’s grumpy,” Rita commented casually. “So, I guess what Buchanan told me was true. Your dear old dad is being accused of rape?”

“God, can nothing remain a secret?” I complained, and she laughed shortly before saying what I already knew. “You know our building leaks like a sieve.”

I said nothing in response, embarrassment welling up inside me. I was a private person, and now everyone would know that the arrogant, smart-ass Rafael Barba’s father had been accused of rape. Guilty or not, it was a black mark.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rita asked plainly after several moments of silence.

“Not really,” I responded, and I was relieved when she didn’t push.

“Okay, but know that I’m available if you need someone to get drunk with,” she told me casually, and I felt a rush of affection towards her. We fought like cats and dogs, and we could be downright mean to each other in court, but I knew she’d always have my back and vice versa. She’d been looking out for me since our days at Harvard when I was a scrawny freshman who never knew when to shut up, and she was the know-it-all, prissy RA of my dorm.

“I’m good,” I reassured her, “but thanks.”

“Hmph. Just don’t do anything stupid,” was her parting remark, and I rolled my eyes once more as I tossed my phone on the coffee table.

Sitting up, I headed to the kitchen to brew myself a pot of coffee. With today’s drama, I’d missed out on a day of work, and there was no time like the present to catch up.

I worked into the early hours, not realizing when I’d fallen asleep until I was once more awoken by the shrill ringing of my cell phone. Cursing vehemently, I snatched it and made sure to see who was calling before answering this time.

Olivia. I almost smiled before realizing she’d only be calling at this hour for one reason.

“Hey, Liv,” I greeted, my voice hoarse from sleep.

“Hey, Rafa, I’m sorry for waking you,” Olivia greeted apologetically, “but I wanted you to be the first to know that we found some evidence against your dad.”

Fully awake now, I waited for her to tell me what was found.

“A couple who live nearby were arriving home when they saw Sara stumbling out of the restaurant in tears and a torn blouse. They were going to approach her, but she took off running. Barely a minute passed when Manuel came out,” she informed me.

“That’s circumstantial at best,” I stated, automatically defending the man. “She could’ve been crying for any reason, and it was dark, so there’s no guarantee she really had a torn blouse. Manuel coming out a minute later means nothing as it’s his restaurant.”

“That’s one explanation,” she hedged, “but he never mentioned Sara leaving in tears.”

“That evidence proves nothing,” I argued, not quite understanding why I was defending Manuel so vehemently. “Is there anything else?”

A few seconds of silence passed before Olivia spoke again almost reluctantly. “This isn’t the first time. Another woman came forward after you left claiming the same thing had happened to her.”

I frowned deeply, many questions running through my head. How did this woman know SVU was investigating Manuel? How long ago was this alleged rape? Was a rape kit completed? Did this woman know Sara? I didn’t bother asking any of them as I knew Olivia couldn’t answer them. She was already breaking the rules by telling me this.

“Whose prosecuting?” I inquired curiously.

“Isaiah Homes,” she replied, and I sighed internally. He was good and coming from me that was saying something. I wondered how they’d managed to nail him, but I didn’t want to hear that she’d called in a favor. I didn’t want to know how badly she was working to put Manuel in prison.

“Charges?” I asked next.

“Rape in the second degree for Sara, and after a little more digging, we may pursue similar charges for the new victim. Because of our friendship, I’m giving you the courtesy of bringing your father in tomorrow morning at 9AM. If he doesn’t show, we will issue an arrest warrant,” she declared almost without emotion. I knew this was bothering her, but I also knew she cared more about bringing justice for the two girls than my need to protect Manuel.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I assured her that I’d be there with Manuel and Buchanan.

“Is that all?” I asked wearily.

“Rafa, I’m so sorry about all of this,” Liv admitted, and I knew she meant it, but there was nothing that could be done, so I simply replied with a soft, “Me too,” before hanging up.

I groaned loudly for the hundredth time in the past 24 hours, curling into a ball as I willed all of this to go away. Why did this have to happen? Why did that stupid _viejo_ have to interfere in my life again?

Looking at the time and knowing I wouldn’t get any sleep, I got back to work until the hour was decent enough to contact Buchanan. The defense attorney’s response was similar to what I’d told Olivia, and he seemed confident SVU still had no case.

“You’d think with how close you and that lieutenant are, that she’d make sure to have _real_ evidence before pursuing this,” the man remarked, clearly probing for my thoughts on the matter.

“We’re all professionals here, and SVU is doing their job just as you’re doing yours. That’s all,” I told him firmly, not wanting to get into my true feelings on the matter.

The conversation ended there at which point I showered, dressed, and threw together a quick breakfast and large coffee. I resisted the urge to down a glass of scotch as it was both too early, and I needed to be clear headed. I made the embarrassing call to McCoy at this point, and he expressed his sympathy before agreeing to pass on some of my cases to other ADAs so that I’d have time to focus on my family. I thanked him for his understanding, although I’ll admit to wishing he’d told me to stay away from the entire situation and focus on work.

I took an uber then to my parent’s home and found myself wishing I hadn’t eaten anything as I felt as though I was going to throw up. I hadn’t been here since shortly after I’d graduated from Harvard. I’d been packing up the last of my stuff as I’d gotten my own place to live in and Manuel had been home. He’d spent the entire time following me around, yelling if he felt anything I grabbed wasn’t mine. It was so obvious to me he’d been looking for a fight, but I’d been too immature to not take the bait. We’d ended up in a shouting match and I’d left with only a single box of items and a black eye. That’d been the last time he’d laid a hand on me.

Walking up the familiar stairs with a hammering heart, I hesitated before knocking on the apartment door. I hoped they were both awake because I didn’t want to give Manuel any more reason to be irritated with me. He’d been nice yesterday, but I wasn’t fooling myself into thinking that’d continue after I informed him his case hadn’t been dropped.

The door opened, and I felt a rush of relief at seeing _Mami_ ’s smiling face.

“Rafi, _mijo_ , what’re you doing here?” she asked, pulling me in for a hug. “Come in, come in,” she encouraged, leading me into the kitchen. Looking around, my uneasiness ramped up at seeing the place looking almost identical to what it’d looked like twenty years ago. It was literally like walking into a nightmare, and I hated myself for tensing up when Manuel walked into the kitchen. The man’s eyes rose first in surprise before narrowing in suspicion. He knew this wasn’t a social call.

“Have you had breakfast?” _Mami_ asked, already opening the fridge and pulling out eggs.

“ _Estoy bien, Mami, ya comí,”_ I assured her with a kind smile before looking over at Manuel.

“Seeing you twice in two days, _mijo_ ,” he remarked evenly. “I would think you missed me if I didn’t know you better.” Huh. Guess the loving father from yesterday wasn’t present today. “Why are you here?”

“New evidence has been found against you, and another girl has come forward accusing you of rape,” I answered, not bothering to soften the blow. “I’ve been asked to bring you into the station again by 9AM, otherwise police will come for you. Your lawyer will meet us there.”

“I’m under arrest?” Manuel clarified in disbelief. “Who-who is this other woman that came forward? Who else is accusing me of rape?” he demanded, standing up with an angry snarl. There he is, I thought dismally.

“I wasn’t given the details as I’m not your lawyer,” I spoke quickly. “Mr. Buchanan will be given copies of all evidence, which means who this second woman is—but whoever she is, you cannot speak with her or Sara Perez.”

“This is not supposed to be happening,” the man muttered to himself, looking stunned.

“Manny, _todo va estar bien_ ,” _Mami_ rushed to assure him, but he waved a hand at her before setting his eyes on me.

“You were supposed to make this go away,” he growled. “I thought you were good at your job! Why is this still an issue?” He then turned towards _Mami_. “You told me he knew what he was doing! You told me he’d fix this!”

I bit back the urge to yell at him that this wasn’t my job at all, knowing it would only escalate the situation.

“ _Papá_ , everything will be fine, okay,” I instead spoke soothingly, holding up calming hands. “Buchanan is good at what he does, and even if charges are brought up, it doesn’t mean you’ll be found guilty. You won’t go to jail today either as I will post your bail. Just come to the station with me, _por favor_ , because not coming will make you look guilty.”

“I’m _not_ a rapist,” he hissed to me, and I nodded my head in agreement while saying, “I know you’re not.”

 _Mami_ rushed over and spoke soothingly to Manuel, thankfully calming him down. I ordered an uber, and we made it to SVU without further drama. As we arrived in the squad room, I immediately locked eyes with Olivia, who looked to be even more exhausted than I was. I gave her a weak smile, which she returned. I yearned to go over and talk with her, but it wasn’t the time or place.

Buchanan was already waiting for us, and we were barely exchanging greetings when Sara Perez came walking into the precinct with what appeared to be a parent.

Shit.

Manuel noticed her instantly, his face turning red as he made to walk over.

“ _Papá,_ no! Now is not the time. Don’t say anything!” I urged desperately, stepping between him and the now petrified girl. Liv and Rollins immediately intercepted Sara, but not before my genius father could yell, “How dare you accuse me of rape, you little bitch! I gave you a job and treated you like family, and this is how you repay me?” I wasn’t the only one trying to shush him now, _Mami_ and Buchanan both jumping in.

“ _Déjame!_ ” he shouted, shoving me away roughly which caused a flash of anger to hit me, and I shouted back, “Shut up!”

It worked, and as my anger dissipated, I wasn’t sure who was more stunned, him or me. He definitely recovered quicker, though, and at the stormy look in his eyes, the child in me urged me to run and hide. Instead, I mumbled an apology, hoping my voice hadn’t come out as pathetic as it’d sounded to my ears.

“Gentleman, how about we stop making a spectacle in my squad room,” Olivia remarked icily, and I could feel my face warming with embarrassment. Wonderful, I’d just made a fool of myself in front of the entire station.

“Well, we wouldn’t be having to make a spectacle, if you weren’t bringing up ridiculous charges against my client based on flimsy evidence,” Buchanan asserted, and I felt profound relief that he seemed to be calm and in control of the situation.

Manuel stayed quiet, lips pressed tightly together as he allowed Buchanan to do the talking, but I didn’t miss the dark look he gave me. This day just kept getting better and better.

This time when Buchanan took Manuel to the interview room I didn’t bother asking to watch, and Olivia didn’t offer. I simply waited out in the squad room with my mother. I could feel people staring, but I ignored it, keeping a stone faced look on the door to Liv’s office. _Mami_ attempted to speak to me a couple times but gave up when I never replied.

Barely twenty minutes passed before the detectives walked out, and I figured they were giving Buchanan time to review the evidence and discuss things with Manuel. Carisi gave me a nod in greeting, but seemed to have no idea what to say, so he just busied himself at his desk. Rollins gave me a sympathetic look before following Carisi’s example, and Fin and Olivia spoke quietly in a corner, both looking serious.

“Do you think we can go in?” _Mami_ asked, and I shook my head.

“Just let the lawyer handle things,” I explained. “We’d only get in the way.”

“But you’re a lawyer,” she protested. “You should be in there helping.”

“There’s nothing I can do to help,” I argued, frustration evident in my tone, “and I doubt he wants me there.”

“Of course, he does, _Rafi,_ you’re his son,” she refuted, and I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. “You just need to remember to be more respectful. You know how angry he gets when you’re not, and right now he’s under a lot of stress.”

I gritted my teeth at the light reprimand, words I’d heard her say to me over and over again as I’d grown up, as if it were my fault _Papá_ lost his temper.

“Go and check what’s going on,” _Mami_ insisted, pushing me to get up.

“You can go in if you want, Counselor,” Carisi spoke up, no doubt thinking he was being helpful. _Mami_ gave Carisi a bright grin as I stood up while I shot the man a withering look.

“Thanks,” I grumbled sarcastically as I passed by his desk, and he looked at me with confusion. Cursing myself for my inability to say no to my mother, I willed myself to remain calm as I entered the interrogation room, which only became more difficult when I sensed the tense atmosphere. Buchanan looked calm, but Manuel looked seconds away from losing it. He was impatiently tapping on the metal table, and his frown deepened when he noticed me.

“Rafael,” Buchanan addressed, and I blinked as I’d never heard him use my first name. “Would you mind explaining to your father that while he is being charged, that doesn’t mean he’s guilty? Please assure him that you’ll have him out on bail before the day’s over.” His voice sounded strained as if he’d been having this argument with Manuel multiple times. I wouldn’t have been surprised.

“ _Papá_ ,” I called gently, “he’s right. I’ll bail you out no matter the cost. You’ll be sleeping at home tonight.”

“And what about after that, huh?” he demanded. “I shouldn’t even be charged!” he declared, slamming his hand down onto the table, causing both Buchanan and I to jump.

“That little whore is lying, and none of you believe me!” he accused furiously. “I can see it in your eyes, Rafael, don’t think I can’t. Does this please you, _chico_? Seeing me like this? Knowing that I have to depend on you, who hasn’t done a single thing for your family since you got your fancy college degree?”

He was in my face at this point, and it was sheer will of force that kept me from backing up.

“Alright, Mr. Barba, this isn’t helping. No one is saying they don’t believe you, isn’t that right, Rafael?” Buchanan interceded, and I quickly nodded my head in agreement, heart pounding at having my angry _padre_ in my face.

“I do believe you,” I insisted, even though I wasn’t really sure, “and I am not happy about any of this.”

Manuel looked me straight in the eyes, and I dimly remembered that I’d never been able to lie to him. He’d see my doubt. He’d see my unease. He’d see my growing fear.

Manuel took a step back, giving Buchanan a nod before turning and beginning to speak to me strictly in Spanish.

“All these years and you’re still afraid of me,” he stated rather than asked. “Look at you, you’re practically trembling like a little boy _._ You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Big bad lawyer in your thousand-dollar suits putting away the bad guys.” He shook his head with a look of disgust I was all too familiar with.

“You’re still that scared, pathetic child from the Bronx, trying way too hard to fit in with all these rich, white people. You forget that I know you better than anyone, even your mother.” He looked me up and down making me feel all of four feet tall. How could he still hold this much power over me?! Where the hell was my backbone?

“You will get me out of this, Rafael, do you hear me? Whatever happens, I will hold you personally responsible. I am innocent, and you will make sure I walk away from all of this with my reputation intact. _Whatever_ it takes and _whatever_ it costs, you will succeed, do you understand me, son?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, or yet, I could. Why was I surprised? He hadn’t changed at all, and he was falling back on the same tactics he’d used on me as a child. The sad thing was, that they _still_ worked. I was _still_ afraid of him. It didn’t matter that I was a grown man. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t let _anyone_ intimidate me since I’d left home, not even when my life had been threatened. Twenty-four hours around this man, and it was like I was ten years old again.

I must have taken too long to answer as my arm was suddenly grabbed in a vice-like grip. “ _Do you understand me?_ ”

“I understand,” I automatically replied demurely, fighting to maintain eye-contact. How easy it was to fall back into old habits. Where was the badass shark of the court room, Rafael Barba? Who was this pathetic coward inhabiting my body?

The grip on my arm tightened, and I knew there’d be a bruise by tonight.

“If you fail me, I promise you will regret it. I will make you wish you’d never been born,” he threatened darkly, and I had no doubt he meant it. If I failed, he’d be taken to prison, but I believed he’d find some way to make me pay. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t my case to him. Everything bad in his life was my fault. It always had been.

“I _don’t_ fail,” I stated, my voice stronger, a flicker of my buried pride flaring up.

Seemingly satisfied, he gave a curt nod before abruptly releasing his hold on me. I didn’t move a muscle, simply watching him.

Switching to English, he spoke with sudden calm to Buchanan, letting him know he understood what was happening and that the detectives could come back in. Buchanan looked warily between Manuel and me, and I was surprised to notice concern in his eyes. He quickly masked it, though, an easy smile spreading his face as he made to leave and retrieve the detectives.

I remained frozen, but thankfully Buchanan seemed to take pity on me for he called out, saying, “Rafael, you know you can’t be in here.” He opened the door and I quickly made my way out of the room, not realizing until I was out that I was trembling, my skin covered in cold sweat.

“You want to tell me what happened in there?” Buchanan asked bluntly, and I let out a humorless laugh as I answered, “Just a friendly chat, nothing to worry about.”

He may have believed me if I hadn’t sounded so breathless. As it was, he was respectful enough not to say anything else. He simply stood there fiddling with his phone for several moments, which didn’t make sense. He was supposed to be getting the detectives, not just standing there.

“What’re you doing?” I asked, and he raised an eyebrow at me before shrugging and walking out. I looked after him bewilderedly. Had he been giving me time to calm down before the others saw me? No, that was ridiculous.

Taking in a deep breath, I fixed my expression before stepping out into the squad room. Liv, Carisi, Rollins, and Fin were all walking towards me, and I straightened, giving them a simple nod of acknowledgment before continuing on. Smiling didn’t seem appropriate, and honestly, I didn’t think I could manage one even if I’d wanted to.

I walked towards my mother whose brows furrowed as she saw me. She, like Manuel were adept at reading me, so before she could ask anything, I held up a silencing hand.

“He’s going to be officially arrested and processed. Buchanan will take him down to the court, where he will be arraigned. If the judge doesn’t agree to release him on his own recognizance, then I’ll post bail and he’ll go home with you,” I explained quickly. “Now, I need to go to the courthouse to get some work done. I’ll see you shortly,” I added before making my escape. I didn’t want to be here. I _couldn’t_ stand to be here anymore, not with him so near.

It was only once I was in the elevator alone that I let out several shaky breaths, hands loosening the tie I wore so as to help me breathe better. I then ripped off my jacket and used it to hide my trembling hands.

Please God, give me the strength to survive this.


	3. Doubts

**Note: Thank you to those have reviewed! So glad people are not just reading, but actually enjoying this. As mentioned in chapter 1, updates will be inconsistent, but I’ll do my best to get at least one out a week.**

**I’ve never been to court proceedings nor have I ever been charged with any crime, so anything that doesn’t seem realistic will be due to lack of knowledge. I’m only using what little knowledge I’ve gained from watching Law and Order, and yes, I realize that TV isn’t always accurate.**

**Chapter 3: Doubts**

I sat with my mother in the courthouse, her cold, sweaty hand held tightly in mine as we watched the proceedings before us. Holmes, the prosecutor listed out the charge of second-degree rape against my father before requesting he be remanded. My eyebrows rose in surprise, not having expected that. As much of a bastard as Manuel was, he had no prior record. Neither my mother nor I had ever involved authorities in our domestic disputes, and we hadn’t lived in a neighborhood where people paid attention to anything outside their own drama.

When the judge asked for reasoning, Holmes proclaimed, “Mr. Barba poses a danger to those around him. He is known for his temper, and it’s likely he’ll seek retribution against the young woman who accused him. Furthermore, there is another claim that’s currently being investigated that will be leading to another charge of second-degree rape.”

Buchanan interjected at this point, giving a disbelieving look at the judge. “Your honor, my client shouldn’t be penalized for charges that _may_ be brought up, but just on the one that’s already in motion. As it is, I strongly argue that he be released ROR as he poses no threat to anyone. He is a local businessman with a stable job and home life. He lives with his wife and is the father of respected ADA Rafael Barba. He’s not looking to flee, he has no passport, and aside from that, he is an aging man in poor health.”

Poor health, I thought with an internal roll of my eyes. The man was as healthy and strong as an ox, which I didn’t understand seeing as he had a drinking problem.

The judge held up a hand signaling that he’d heard enough. His eyes had landed on me the second my name had been mentioned, and it seemed he was as surprised as everyone else to find I was related to someone being accused of rape. I simply raised an unamused eyebrow at the judge in return, hoping he wouldn’t comment.

“Bail is set at $50,000,” was all he said as he brought down the gavel, and I felt _Mami_ tense.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go post his bail right now,” I reassured her. “He’ll be going home with you.”

She gave me a grateful look, kissing my cheek before releasing her hold on me. As I left, I felt numerous eyes on me, but I looked at no one. I quickly paid Manuel’s bail, wondering briefly if it wouldn’t have been better to have him incarcerated. I wouldn’t be surprised if he really did seek out the girls who’d accused him, or if he took his anger out on _Mami_. I shoved that thought away, not having the emotional capacity at this time to contemplate it.

I headed back towards the courtroom, noticing Buchanan and my parents waiting for me. “Your bail is taken care of,” I informed Manuel, and he barely acknowledged me while _Mami_ thanked me profusely.

“Court date has been set for one week from today,” Buchanan addressed Manuel. “I’ll be in contact to go over details of your defense and what you’ll say when on the stand. Mrs. Barba, I’ll be calling you up as a character witness, so we’ll need to go over what you’ll say as well.”

“My son would be a better character witness, wouldn’t he, though, because he’s a lawyer?” _Mami_ had to ask, and I grit my teeth together. “It will hold more weight with the jury and judge, right?”

“Your testimony will be better, ma’am,” Buchannan insisted, “as you’ve been married and living together for fifty years. No one knows your husband better than you. As for Rafael, we’ll keep him as a backup just in case.”

I remained silent, knowing that last part was meant to simply placate my _mamá._ From the short interactions the attorney had witnessed between Manuel and I, he had to have known I would be a terrible character witness.

“How about you two head home and relax,” Buchanan then suggested genially. “It’s been a long two days. I’ve got everything under control.”

Manuel nodded and shook Buchanan’s hand before beginning to walk away, but _Mami_ approached, pulling me in for a hug.

“You’ll help take care of this, right?” she whispered with pleading eyes.

“I’m not his lawyer,” I began to protest, but she shook her head sharply before saying, “Do whatever you can to help your _papi_. He _cannot_ go to prison.”

I watched them walk away before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Your mom was right, Barba,” Buchanan remarked, “you would’ve made a great character witness.”

“Only if I lied,” I supplied blandly, and the man made a sound of agreement.

“Let’s go to my office,” he then stated, beginning to lead the way. “There’s some stuff I’d like to go over with you.”

“You don’t have to include me,” I spoke honestly. “I know you’re good at your job.”

This elicited a loud laugh, and the attorney’s voice was teasing as he said, “Complimented by the great Rafael Barba, the world must be ending.”

“You’re still an ass, though,” I had to add with a smirk, which only pulled a louder laugh from the obese man.

Already I could feel myself relaxing some now that I was away from Manuel. Breathing and talking were easier, and my stomach didn’t feel like it was in knots. My muscles ached from how tense they’d been, and I desperately wished I could just sleep the trial away.

Arriving at Buchanan’s office, I couldn’t help but quip, “Mines bigger,” before gleefully stealing the last of the coffee.

Buchanan huffed before quipping, “No doubt needed to match your big head.”

I chuckled at that, a smile spreading on my face for the first time today.

“Holmes gave me this witness list as I was leaving,” Buchanan then spoke, getting right down to business. “Look it over and tell me what you know about these people.”

I looked over the list, surprised to find I only knew one name on the list aside from the SVU detectives.

“I only know Lisa Murillo,” I informed Buchanan with a deepening frown. “She’s been my parents neighbor since probably before I was born. She used to babysit me when I was very young.”

“What’s she going to say about Manuel?” Buchanan probed, notepad and pen at the ready.

I thought over the question, wondering myself what she would say. She knew more than most, but she’d never said anything to anybody, so I wasn’t sure what she’d be willing to say now.

A loud sigh pulled me from my thoughts, and I graced Buchanan with an apologetic look.

“Look, Barba,” the older man spoke bluntly, “it’s clear you and your dad don’t get along, but it can’t be all bad if you’re trying so hard to help him. Give me an honest assessment of the guy because I’d prefer not to be blindsided by the prosecution.”

“He’s arrogant,” I began, lip quirking in mild amusement as that was one description that was often used to describe me. It never used to bother me, but now…

“He likes to be in control,” I continued, “and he has a bad temper that only gets worse if he’s drinking. I don’t know how bad his drinking is, though, as I haven’t been in contact with him in over a decade.”

“Is he violent?” was the next question, and I gave a curt, “Sometimes.”

“Is he physical with certain people or everyone?” he probed, and I had to look away when I answered, “Mostly towards people he knows, especially those weaker than him.”

I honestly expected more probing or even a comment, but the only notice Buchanan gave that he registered my words was a pause in his writing. He kept it professional, and I felt an enormity of gratitude.

“What will Ms. Murillo say?” he asked again, and I finally replied, “She’ll probably mention loud arguments, screaming, and sometimes the breaking of items. She may mention that he hit my mother and me, but I’m honestly not sure. She never mentioned anything when I lived there, but then again, I haven’t seen her since I moved out in my early twenties.”

Buchanan wore a light frown as he tapped his pen on the table. He looked back over the witness list and nodded to himself.

“They’re going to bring up the abuse,” he declared, and I nodded in agreement. “This doctor here is a psychiatrist who was brought in on a previous trial of mine dealing with spousal issues (spousal abuse, my mind supplied). His testimony will work towards discrediting your mother’s because if they can prove he’s abusive towards her, then her testimony will come off like that of a scared and compliant wife.”

“Who are the other witnesses?” I questioned curiously.

“The victim, her mother, the couple that saw the victim leave the restaurant, and someone that works at your father’s restaurant,” Buchanan responded, going silent for several minutes as he wrote things down.

“Will Lucia admit to the abuse?” he asked abruptly, and I gave an adamant shake of my head as I gave a firm, “Never. She loves Manuel, and while she’ll admit to him having a temper, she’ll never admit to him having abused her or me.”

Buchanan sat back in his chair at this point and seemed to study me. “I won’t call you as a witness, but I need you to play the dutiful and loyal son. You are well known, so if you don’t show up in support of your own dad, the jury will see that and count it against him. Your opinion holds weight, so no matter your true opinion, if you want Manuel to win this case, then play the happy family in the courthouse.”

“That was my intention,” I growled, annoyed that he felt I needed to be told this, but also at how true it was. “I won’t be the one to jeopardize this case.”

“You will be if the prosecutor learns how you really feel about your old man,” he countered seriously. “If you get called to testify by Holmes…well, you know how that’ll go. Does the lieutenant or any of the detectives know of your past?”

“Lieutenant Benson knows some, but she’d never bring it up,” I answered firmly, but he didn’t look convinced.

“Look, forget about his temper for now,” I stated dismissively. “What evidence besides that couple is there?”

“They found his DNA under her fingernails, and a used condom in a trash can. DNA on that is still being tested,” he answered, and I wondered again if he really could’ve done it. Manuel was a bastard, but a rapist? It didn’t make sense.

No, he couldn’t be guilty. He _couldn’t_.

“I have to go,” I suddenly stated, not bothering with an excuse as I left the room. I made my way to my office, closed the door, and immediately buried myself in work, needing to be distracted from my dark, panicky thoughts. I’d barely started to get into a rhythm when a single knock sounded on my door. My pen stilled as I knew who it was. I’d told Carmen to not let anyone in, which meant the only person she wouldn’t have stopped would’ve been Olivia.

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” I asked formally, hoping she’d get the hint that now was not a good time.

“Lieutenant, wow,” Liv remarked with forced casualness. “One case without each other and we’re back to formalities. Okay, Counselor, I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me? Noah is sleeping over at Rollins’s house and I would love some company.”

I looked up at Liv, all previous irritation leaving me as I took in her kind, earnest gaze. Hanging out with her sounded great, but…

“That sounds great, Liv, but I’m not really into going out, and I guarantee you I won’t be good company,” I admitted truthfully.

“We can do take-out at my place or yours, and we don’t have to talk about anything. We can just sit and watch Netflix or listen to music. Whatever you need, Rafa, I’m here for you,” she expressed softly.

I could feel tears threatening to well in my eyes at how kind she was being, so I closed my eyes, willing them away. I wanted so badly to accept, but I was afraid that I’d start talking, and if I started talking, I didn’t think I’d be able to stop. I was feeling especially vulnerable, and I didn’t want to say or do something stupid that could possibly jeopardize our friendship. I didn’t want her to see how needy I was feeling, how much I wanted to be with her.

“Liv, we shouldn’t,” I whispered, giving her a pained look. “I’m not okay.”

“So?” she let out with a disbelieving scoff. “Even more reason that you shouldn’t be alone. What kind of a best friend would I be if I walked away when you needed me?”

I gave her a small smile, my heart warming at her obvious love for me. Love. I knew she loved me. She didn’t have to say it, but I knew, just as she knew I loved her. Whether that love could stretch into something romantic, neither one of us dared to explore.

“Let’s go,” she abruptly demanded. “No more work. I know McCoy lessened your load because of what’s going on, so there’s nothing here that can’t be done later. Chop chop!” she said, actually clapping her hands.

I gave her a disgruntled look at being spurred into movement like a child, but secretly I was amused and relieved.

“Fine,” I grumbled, “but I want Chinese food, and you better have some of my scotch or I’m not coming.”

Laughing loudly, Olivia rolled her eyes before assuring me that Chinese was fine and there was plenty of scotch.

Olivia drove us to her apartment in her car, and every second I spent with her was like a soothing balm. It was like the worries of the real world were no longer important. All that mattered was what was happening between us, whether it was just eating, talking, or sitting on the couch watching TV.

After arriving at her apartment, I ordered the food while she freshened up. Pouring myself and her a drink, we settled on the couch until the food arrived and then ate, barely speaking the entire time. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. We just enjoyed being with each other, and I loved that.

When we’d finished eating and cleaning up, Olivia sat back down on the couch, placed a pillow on her lap, and motioned for me lay my head down. I gave her a curious look, hesitating, but had to give in when she gently pulled me towards her. I tensed up briefly at the unfamiliar position. It wasn’t as if Liv and I weren’t tactile, but this seemed more intimate.

As she began to run a hand through my hair, all thoughts ceased, and I melted, every muscle in my body relaxing. I made a sound of contentment, and Liv gave a light chuckle as she continued her ministrations.

“So, this is all it takes to relax you?” she asked in amusement. “I’ll have to remember that.”

I mumbled something unintelligibly, and I felt her body shake with suppressed laughter.

Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to enjoy the moment. The calm. The quiet. The peace. I found myself falling asleep, but before I could, Olivia’s cell phone went off.

We let out twin groans, and I wanted badly to beg her not to answer it, but I knew that was a stupid thought.

I sat myself up, letting her get her phone before she answered with a tired, “Benson.”

I watched her face as she listened to what was being said, noticing as her brows creased and frown deepened. When her eyes landed on me, I knew who the call was about. Just like that, the bubble we were in snapped.

“Okay, thanks Fin. Keep me updated,” she stated before hanging up. We stared at each other, neither one of us knowing what to say. What could we say? What should we say?

“DNA on the condom found in your dad’s restaurant matched him and Sara,” she told me gently, as if her tone would lessen the ramification of her words.

“So, they had sex,” I mused aloud, “but was it consensual or not?”

“You know what I think,” Liv answered, and I gave a nod as I stood up.

“I should go,” I said with reluctance as I grabbed my jacket.

“No, Rafael, you don’t have to,” Liv argued, standing up with me.

“Liv,” I addressed seriously, “yes, I do. This—us—we shouldn’t be hanging out during this case. We’re literally on opposite sides here. You’re trying to put my father in prison, and I’m not angry or anything, but this is the definition of conflict of interest. We’re too tempted to help each other out and say things we shouldn’t. I mean, you’ve broken protocol already just by telling me what Fin called about.”

Olivia looked upset at my words, but she didn’t refute them. She instead wrapped her arms around me, a gesture of comfort I happily returned.

“I had a great time tonight. Thank you,” I whispered into her ear before breaking apart.

I sported a wry smile as I walked out and said, “See you in court.”

Her door closed behind me, and my heart sank as my mind now went to Manuel’s case. He had sex with Sara. He had sex with an eighteen-year-old. The man was nearly eighty years old. What the hell was he doing having sex with someone that young? And what woman that young would want to have sex with an old man?

The likelihood of this being a rape seemed to strengthen every day, and that made me sick. With a second victim having come forth, I wondered how many victims there could actually be. Was this a one-time thing, or had he been doing this for years? An even sicker thought hit me as I suddenly wondered if he had or was raping my mother.

I nearly gagged at the thought.

What was I going to do? What could I say to my mother?

I wondered if Buchanan knew, and then I figured he didn’t. I called him up, not really wanting to discuss the case, but also needing to know how he planned on handling this. The attorney listened attentively as I spoke but didn’t seem happy that I’d found out about this evidence before he did. He, thankfully, only complained about the matter rather than threaten to report me and Benson.

“Obviously, this only proves they had sex, and while it would’ve been better if your dad had admitted that, this doesn’t prove rape,” Buchanan remarked. “It’s still a he said/she said case. I’ll call Manuel in tomorrow so we can start to work on a defense.”

Good luck with that, I thought to myself.

“I assume you won’t be in attendance,” Buchanan stated, and I told him I wouldn’t unless he specifically asked for me to be there. I highly doubted he would.

Hanging up, I got myself ready for bed, telling myself that I needed a full night’s rest if I was to maintain my sanity.

For the third morning in a row, the ringing of my phone pulled me from a restful sleep. I silenced the phone when I saw it was my mother, hoping it wasn’t important enough for her to call again. As with everything lately, luck wasn’t on my side, and the phone rang again, seeming to sound shriller than I ever remembered.

“Hi _Mami_ ,” I greeted gruffly, not trying to hide the fact that she’d woken me up.

“Raf, I’m sorry for waking you, but _tú papí esta con el abogado ahorrita_ , and I was hoping we could meet to talk. We can meet for lunch at our usual place or you could come here,” she suggested, and I rubbed my face in exhaustion. I didn’t feel like meeting, but I also wasn’t one to deny her, especially when she rarely asked me for anything.

“Okay, 11AM at our usual place,” I agreed.

“Thank you, I’ll see you soon,” she spoke with a sigh of relief before hanging up.

Concern hit me at how relieved she sounded, and I worried that something may have happened. Was there new evidence? Had Manuel done something to her? Maybe she wanted to leave him? I rolled my eyes at that last one.

Sighing heavily, I did my best to drown myself in the shower, but when that didn’t work, I got dressed and headed out the door. Arriving at the little coffee shop my mother and I frequented, I noticed she was already there.

She grinned brightly when she saw me, motioning for me to sit while telling me she’d already ordered my favorite. Inhaling the scent of coffee like it was a drug, I greedily drank it down as I took in _Mami’s_ condition. She was wearing more makeup than usual, but it wasn’t to cover a bruise from being hit, rather bruises under the eyes from lack of sleep. Her hands fidgeted constantly, pulling at the cloth napkin in her hands. She looked strung out and fragile, and my heart broke at the sight.

I reached out one of my hands and placed it on top of hers, giving a gentle squeeze.

“You okay?” I questioned softly, even though I knew everything was far from fine.

“ _Sí_ , _papíto,_ I’m fine,” she replied, and I may have been slightly inclined to believe her if her voice hadn’t shaken so much.

“Talk to me, please,” I begged, knowing that she had no one to confide in.

“I’m just so worried,” she expressed, both her hands holding tightly onto mine. “What happens if Manny goes to prison? I will be all alone.”

“You’ll still have me,” I refuted gently, deciding not to mention that she’d be better off without him. I was here to put out the fire, not fan it.

“Yes, but you’re never around, and you’re my son,” she argued, pulling her hands away from me. Both her words and actions stung, but I refraied from arguing.

“Your _Abuelita’s_ death hit me so hard, _mijo_ , and I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I lost your _papi_ too. I know I have you, but you’re always so busy, and barely have time for me. I-I understand and am not angry, so don’t feel bad,” she rushed to add at noticing my guilty expression. Guilt for causing _Abuelita’s_ death and guilt for not spending more time with _Mami_.

“How is _Papá_ doing?” I reluctantly asked, worried that he would take his feelings out on her.

“He’s strong,” was her first answer, and the pride in her voice made me want to curl my lip in disgust.

“He’s worried and angry, of course,” she continued, avoiding eye contact.

“How angry?” I pushed, tapping her arm to get her to look at me.

“He’s stressed, Rafael,” she defended, giving me a stern look for assuming the worst. “He’s being accused of this horrible crime when he didn’t do it, so he has all the right in the world to be upset!”  
  
“True, but has he hurt you?” I pressed more insistently, needing to know.

“No, of course he hasn’t,” she replied dismissively as if the question was ridiculous.

“ _Aye, niño,_ you’re always assuming the worst,” she complained. “This is why I never talk to you about what happens at home.”

“I… _disculpas, Mami_ ,” I apologized softly, “I didn’t meant to upset you.”

Our food arrived at that moment, and neither of us said anything as we ate. I wondered if she knew about the new evidence and what she thought about it. I wondered what she’d think if Manuel was found guilty. Would she ever believe he did it? Would our relationship make it if he was found guilty? Would she blame me for Manuel going to prison like she blamed me for _Abuelita’s_ death?

Lunch continued, and I voiced none of my thoughts or concerns. I didn’t want to push her away. She was my mother, and I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her love for me.


	4. Trial

**Chapter 4: Trial**

I slipped into the court room, a minute before things started. Sitting down next to _Mami_ , I graced her with an apologetic look. She spared me a look that was half stern and half concerned as she grabbed one of my hands.

I ignored the right side of the court where I knew Olivia would be seated. Instead, I looked up front, eyebrows raising in surprise when I saw how my father looked. He was wearing sweater vest, something I’d never seen him wear before. It was something a grandpa would wear and made him seem softer. He also had a wooden cane, which he didn’t need, but would emphasize his age. All in all, he presented the image of a kind, feeble old man, not someone who could possibly commit a rape. Damn, Buchanan was good.

I held in a tired yawn, resisting the urge to rub the sleep from my eyes. I hadn’t slept well since this hellish nightmare had started, so much so that I’d missed my alarm this morning, which is why I was so late. As much as I didn’t want to be here, I was relieved to have made it in time as _Mami_ would have found it incredibly difficult to forgive me if I hadn’t been here to support her and _Papá._

The trial started with each lawyer giving their opening statement. Isaiah Holmes spoke about a lecherous old man who had a temper taking advantage of a young woman. He mentioned how Manuel was someone who had multiple affairs and was used to getting what he wanted.

“Mr. Barba is not used to being told no, so when Sara refused him, he took what he wanted by force,” Homes explained, locking eyes with many of the jurors. He then looked behind him with mild disgust at my father before mentioning, “Don’t be fooled by his age, the clothes, and that cane. Mr. Barba is a man who gets what he wants no matter the cost.”

I pursed my lips, refraining from nodding in agreement as everything he’d said was true. Next to me, _Mami_ looked ready to leap up and defend her husband, so I gave her hand a tight squeeze. Leaning over, I kissed her hair while murmuring that she needed to remain calm. She couldn’t get upset over every bad thing said about Manuel or she’d find herself kicked out of the courthouse. Wrapping an arm around her, I pulled her close, offering her all the comfort and support I could to help her get through this.

Buchanan was up next, and as expected he presented the image of Manuel as a kindly old man—a father and grandfather figure to those he worked with.

“He cares deeply for Ms. Perez and would never want to bring her harm,” Buchanan asserted. “These allegations were no doubt a ploy to extract money from Manuel as the alleged victim’s family is in deep financial debt.” Well, that was news to me. Could that really be what this was? Manuel wasn’t rich, but he was definitely better off than most being the owner of his own restaurant.

Opening statements were completed and the first witness was called, Sara Perez. I held my mother tighter, knowing it would be difficult to hear what the young woman would say. I was eager to hear her testimony, wanting to hear her explain what happened in her own words so that I could gauge her credibility and sincerity. For everyone’s sake, I hoped she was lying. While I wouldn’t mind Manuel going to prison, I didn’t want to contend with having a rapist for a father. Olivia’s father was a rapist, and I knew she still struggled with that, even though she’d never met the man.

I also knew myself. If Manuel was guilty, I would switch sides. I would turn against him fully, and by default, turn against my own mother. My heart hurt at the mere thought.

I shook my head of these thoughts, focusing back on Sara Perez. She was a petite woman, maybe 5 ft. 2 in. 110lbs, and she looked incredibly nervous as she walked up to the stand. She didn’t once look over at Manuel or on my side of the courtroom. Point in her favor, I thought clinically. She looks and acts like a victim.

Holmes questioned her gently, slowly prodding to pull all the details from her of what happened. The more details she gave the more reluctant she became to speak. She began glancing over at my father and with each glance she looked more and more afraid.

“So, that night wasn’t the first time Mr. Barba had made an advance towards you?” Holmes asked, and Sara shook her head negatively as she wiped away a stray tear.

“No, it wasn’t,” she replied shakily. “He’d always complimented my looks, but it never really bothered me. Once I turned 18, though, his comments started making me uncomfortable. He’d started mentioning how sexy I looked, commenting on my, um, butt and boobs. He also started looking at me differently and acting differently. He’d smack my butt sometimes when I walked by and brush against me more.”

“Did you tell him how you felt?” Holmes than asked.

“Yes!” the woman exclaimed. “I-I told him not to do that and that I didn’t like it, but that only seemed to make him angry,” she recounted, and I could all too easily imagine that anger. You did not say no to Manuel Barba.

“I started making sure that I wouldn’t be alone with him, but _that_ night he asked me to stay after to help close. He hadn’t done anything for a couple weeks, so I thought it’d be okay. I thought he’d understood that I didn’t like what he’d been doing,” she explained, pleading with us to understand why she’d allowed herself to be alone with Manuel.

“Tell us how it started,” Holmes encouraged, and Sara flicked her eyes towards Manuel before looking back at Holmes.

“I was wiping down some countertops and he was suddenly right behind me, rubbing up against me,” Sara answered with a shudder, her eyes closing briefly and more tears trailing down her face.

“I tried to push away, but I couldn’t move. I was pinned!” she yelled, a hysterical note in her tone. Holmes gave her several moments to calm down before pushing her to continue.

“He, uh, he started saying things, like how he knew I wanted this and that I was such a tease. I told him no, but he didn’t listen,” she spoke brokenly. “He just got angry, _so angry_. He pulled down my pants and then he stuck his…he raped me, and when he was done, he zipped himself up and walked away,” she finished, openly crying with her head in her hands.

I looked over to Manuel at this point to find him looking my way. We locked eyes for mere seconds, and I knew. I _knew_ in that moment that he was guilty. It wasn’t just the testimony, but the fury and disbelief in his eyes. That fury wasn’t righteous anger, but anger at being called out on his actions. It wasn’t disbelief for being accused of a crime he didn’t commit, but disbelief at the _audacity_ of that girl to stand up to him this way. Standing up in a way that I never could.

Holmes called for a recess at that point so that Sara could calm down before Buchanan questioned her. The judge agreed, deciding to take a lunch break.

My mind was buzzing, thoughts racing as I stood up. I needed to get out. I needed to breathe. As I left, I heard _Mami_ call after me, but I ignored her as I nearly raced out of the room. I walked until I found the first empty room, entered and closed the door behind me, drawing the blinds so no one would look inside. Breathing heavily, I threw myself into one of the chairs, attempting to bring my emotions under control.

Sara was believable. There was no doubt that she’d been assaulted, and since I already knew Manuel had sex with her, then it had to have been him. He’d raped her. _He’d raped her_.

My body was shaking, but it was out of growing anger this time rather than anxiety and fear.

That son of a bitch had _raped_ that woman!

I’d known. I’d always known, but I hadn’t wanted to believe. It was easier not to believe, to think that there were lines even Manuel wouldn’t cross.

I could already assume what happened. He wasn’t a young, good looking man anymore who could charm his way into a woman’s bed. He was an old man, and woman weren’t attracted anymore. They didn’t want to have sex with him anymore, and he couldn’t stand that. It was a blow to his manhood, and god knew, you didn’t question Manuel’s manhood.

I heard the door open and then close, light footsteps making their way towards me before taking the seat next to me.

“Hey, Liv,” I greeted quietly, knowing she’d be the only with the guts to approach me when I was this upset.

“Hey, Rafa,” she greeted back just as quietly. She scooted her chair closer to mine until our knees were touching. I could feel her eyes on me, but I refused to make eye contact, settling my gaze down on my clenched fists.

“We shouldn’t be talking,” I stated emotionlessly.

“We’re not talking,” Liv replied simply, placing a gentle hand on top of mine. “We’re simply two friends sitting next to each other.”

I let out a breath, a brief smile adorning my face as I glanced over at her. Her returning smile was full of compassion, and while it warmed my heart, I didn’t want her compassion at this time.

No more was said between us. She rubbed soothing circles on my hands until they began to slowly unclench. My mind calmed in her presence, and I focused entirely on the feeling of her next to me, and her soft hand on top of mine.

A knock on the door caused her hand to retreat, and we both looked at Rollins’s apologetic expression.

“It’s time to go back,” she addressed Olivia before glancing at me with concerned eyes. She was opening her mouth to say something, but I stood up, simply gracing her with a brief smile as I walked out of the room and back into the courtroom.

I sat myself back down with _Mami_ , wrapping an arm around her again.

“Where were you?” she asked concernedly. “ _Te compré un sandwich._ ”

“Thank you, _pero ya comí_ ,” I lied easily. “I had work to do, so I ate then.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in both concern and suspicion. “You can’t believe her,” she suddenly insisted, giving me an earnest look. I said nothing in response, simply pulling her tighter against me. I rested my head against her for a moment, giving and seeking comfort. This would be the last time I sat with her. Manuel was guilty, and I couldn’t stand by him. I’d have to tell _Mami_ later. I couldn’t have her waiting for me tomorrow when I wouldn’t show.

The trial continued and Sara took the stand again, Buchanan standing up to cross examine her. I felt for the young woman as Buchanan attacked her motives.

“If Manuel really was making you so uncomfortable, why didn’t you quit?” Buchanan inquired.

“I needed the money,” Sara answered.

“And you didn’t think you could get another job?” Buchanan pushed in disbelief.

“No, I mean, yes, I could, but I was making good money,” she defended weakly. “I wouldn’t be making as much somewhere else.”

“Why is money so important that you’d risk supposed sexual harassment?” was the follow up question.

“Because my family needs it,” she explained desperately. “We’re already going to lose our apartment, and I have no idea where we’re going to live!”

“That sounds really tough,” Buchanan admitted with sympathy. “Is that why you asked my client for $10,000 two days ago?”

I looked at _Mami_ in bewilderment, and she squeezed my knee to keep me from saying anything.

Sara began to cry while shaking her head. “He _owes_ me that money!” she snapped furiously. “He’s ruined my life, and the least he could do was give me some money to help out for me having no job!”

“He owes you, huh?” Buchanan remarked with raised eyebrows. “So, when Manuel told me you promised to not testify if he gave you that money wasn’t true?”

“What?” Sara gasped out in shock. “No, of course not! I never said that!”

“Or was that money in payment for the sex—consensual sex?” Buchanan pressed, insinuating she was prostituting herself. 

“Objection,” Holmes exclaimed to which Buchanan responded with a casual, “Withdrawn.”

Buchanan went silent at that point, eyeing the journey with an expression showing clear disbelief. He ended his questioning then, and Sara left the stand.

The next person called to the stand was a coworker of Sara’s. He testified about Sara’s integrity and how she’d never lie. He also admitted to having witnessed some of the harassment Sara had experienced, adding that he’d seen other women experience the same treatment. I wondered if any of these women would be testifying as they hadn’t been on the original witness list.

Rollins was the last one called for the day, and she recounted meeting Sara, her injuries, and how Sara had been honest from the beginning. She’d been reluctant to admit who’d raped her, but she hadn’t left out any details, and her story hadn’t changed.

Court was dismissed, and I resisted the urge to bolt, knowing my mother and I needed to speak.

“ _Mami, tenemos que hablar_ ,” I told her, and her eyes searched mine before she shook her head negatively.

“No, _mijo_ , not right now. I need to be with your _papi_ ,” she retorted as she made to exit the courtroom.

“ _Mami_ ,” I addressed more insistently, “we really need to talk…alone, _sin papá.”_

Lips pursed, she slowly approached me until we were face to face. She looked upset, and I was sure she was going to say no again.

“Please,” I added in a whisper, giving her a pleading look. Her eyes softened, and she patted my cheek a couple times while nodding.

“Tomorrow morning when Manny is with the Mr. Buchanan we can talk,” she agreed, and I gave her a grateful look before we walked out together.

Manuel and Buchanan were waiting for us, the defense attorney looking relaxed while Manuel looked stone faced. His expression relaxed when _Mami_ went up and kissed him. He pulled her in for a hug, smiling warmly as she assured him she didn’t believe a single word that girl had said.

He looked at me then, no doubt waiting for me to say something similar, but I said nothing, letting my expression do the talking.

“What’s with that sour face, Rafi?” the man remarked with false joviality. “You know those were all lies. You know I would never hurt anyone,” he spoke, his voice deepening, and it was probably because of how well I knew his voice that I could detect the underlying threat. Believe what I tell you. Do what I tell you. Be what I tell you to be. _Or else_.

Breaking eye contact, I looked to _Mami_ and said, “Why don’t you two go home and rest up for tomorrow. I have some things I’d like to discuss with Mr. Buchanan, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“ _Sí_ , that sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it, Manny?” _Mami_ addressed her husband.

“No, Lucia, I think Rafael and I need to talk,” Manuel stated firmly, starting to take a step towards me.

“ _No tengo nada que decirte,”_ I hissed, not wanting to exchange a single word with the man.

“ _Rafael_ ,” Lucia spoke in a scolding tone, placing a hand on my chest.

“Ah, how about we move this discussion somewhere else,” Buchanan spoke up, getting in between Manuel and me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and pushed me towards the elevator.

“Rafael and I have legal matters to discuss, and you two should go home. I’ll see you back here at 8AM, okay,” he stated more than asked, nodding and walking away before either of my parents had really responded. Manuel and I stared each other down as _Mami_ spoke quietly to him. Buchanan once again broke our eye contact when he not so gently guided me towards the elevator with a hand on my back.

The second we were in the elevator and alone, Buchanan dropped his hand and gave me a serious look. “You and I both know that a family’s relationship with a defendant is always under scrutiny, and that’s even more critical when a relative is a well-known ADA. What do you think people—the jury will think if they saw that little show downstairs?” he questioned rhetorically.

“Now, it’s clear you and your dad have issues, but you have got to keep a lid on that for the duration of this case,” he lectured, and I frowned deeper with every word.

“I’m done playing nice,” I told him as we exited the elevator. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, John. I believe he’s guilty—no, I _know_ he’s guilty, and I won’t stand by his side anymore.”

The defense attorney let out a long sigh, closing the door to his office once we’d stepped in.

“What changed your mind?” he asked in disappointment.

“I always knew. I just didn’t want to believe it,” I confessed.

“Just like that?” Buchanan countered skeptically. “Your gut? Son’s intuition? You’re going to turn against your own father after the first day of trial?”

“Yes, just like that,” I replied, and the attorney sat down heavily, giving me a disbelieving look. The expression didn’t last long before some sort of understanding came to him.

“Are you planning on showing up to the trial still?” he inquired curiously, and I shook my head negatively.

“Planning on testifying?” he prodded, and I shook my head again.

“Not my intention, but if I’m asked, I will,” I informed him honestly.

Buchanan looked like there was a lot going on his mind and many questions he wanted to ask, but he ended up keeping them to himself.

“I’m still covering your bill,” I added after several moments of silence, and the older man snorted in amusement.

“Goodbye, Rafael,” he stated dismissively, and I left, satisfied that he’d accepted my new stance without question. I knew things would not be so simple with _mi mamá._

I knew I should’ve headed to my office or home at this point, but I ended up at a bar instead, one I never frequented as I didn’t want to stumble upon someone I knew. I drank to forget, which didn’t work, so I then drank to numb the ridiculous emotional pain I was experiencing. It worked, and when I got home, I blessedly passed out on my bed.

When I finally awoke, I groaned at the pounding in my head. This is why I didn’t drink so much. It never seemed worth it in the mornings. The numbness was gone, and the emotions I’d been trying to bury returned ten-fold. It wasn’t so much the disappointment that my father could sink to a whole new level. No, it was the fact that I was going to tell my mother I thought Manuel guilty and that I wasn’t going to help him anymore.

I wrapped my arms around one of my pillows and buried my head in it. I suddenly found myself longing for my _Abuelita_ , her understanding, unconditional love, and comfort. She would’ve supported whatever decision I made without judgment.

Dragging myself out of bed, I downed a couple of aspirin before using the shower to wake myself up. Getting dressed in one of my work outfits, I skipped both coffee and breakfast. I was already jittery, and my stomach was a mess of nerves.

Arriving at the courthouse, I glanced up at the stormy sky, feeling it was an accurate reflection of my emotions. Thunder rumbled, and I pulled my coat tighter as I hurried up the concrete steps and inside. I groaned internally as I hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella.

Thoughts of the weather were pushed from my mind when I saw _Mami_ sitting on a bench by herself. She looked so stressed and tired, almost fragile, and it occurred to me suddenly that she wasn’t as young as she used to be. She was always so full of energy, but ever since _Abuelita_ died, it was if she’d begun to age more rapidly.

Heart hammering, I greeted her with a smile and kiss to the cheek before sitting down next to her.

“You look tired, _papito_ ,” she expressed with concern, “and you’re losing weight. You need to take better care of yourself. Here, I brought you some bread,” she stated, pulling out a paper bag from her purse.

“Eat,” she ordered, and I ripped off a piece of bread and began chewing, my dry mouth making it difficult to swallow.

“ _Mami_ ,” I addressed softly, “I’m not going to be in court today.”

“Why not?” she asked in confusion. “Don’t tell me you have work. You know how important this is. I need you. Your _papi_ needs you.”

I closed my eyes briefly before steeling myself for what I was about to say.

“It’s not about my work,” I argued, “It’s because I _know_ he’s guilty, and I won’t help him get away with rape.”

 _Mami’s_ concerned eyes turned shocked and she quickly exclaimed, “Who told you that? Was it Lieutenant Benson? I know you have feelings for her, _mijo_ , but I can’t believe you’d let her twist your thoughts. You know your _padre_ better than this. He would never”—

“Yes, he would!” I refuted loudly before softening my voice at the looks we were getting. “Yes, he would,” I repeated firmly. “Lieutenant Benson didn’t convince me of anything. It’s because I know Manuel, that I know he did this, and if you would stop being so blinded, you’d know it too!”

 _Mami_ frowned severely, eyes narrowing in anger as she listened to me. “You said you believed him. You said you would help,” she accused, sounding hurt and betrayed. “ _El es tu_ _padre_!” she whispered fiercely as if that would change my mind.

“He is _nothing_ but a monster who I _hate_!” I whispered back furiously, unable to hide my true feelings. “He terrorized and beat me just as he did you!”

“Enough!” _Mami_ shouted, abruptly standing up. Her face was red with anger, but I could also see the betrayal she felt. Tears shined brightly in her eyes, and my heart began to break. I’d promised myself as a little boy that I would _never_ be the cause of my mother’s tears, and here we were. I couldn’t pretend anymore, though. I couldn’t pretend that the past hadn’t happened, and that we were some big happy family.

“Listen to me closely, Rafael Eduardo,” _Mami_ lectured me sternly, “ _Yo soy tu mamá y Manuel tu papá_. We are your family, your _blood_. Everything Manny did to you as a child was discipline and look at how well you turned out. You went to Harvard and are a lawyer now because of him and how hard he pushed you.”

I shook my head roughly, not wanting to hear anything else. Standing up, I furiously stated, “I am where I am today _in spite of him_. It was my own hard work that got me into Harvard and got me this job. Not you, and _definitely_ not him.”

We both stood there, glaring and breathing heavily. The hurt in her eyes were reflected in mine.

“I love you, _Mami_ , but I will not help Manuel no matter what you say,” I declared firmly, my voice not belying any of the emotion I was burying.

The anger in her eyes seemingly evaporated, a new emotion, desperation revealing itself. She was going to beg now, but I didn’t want to hear it, so when she reached out a hand I backed away.

“Rafael, _mijo,”_ she called out tearfully, but I simply shook my head before beginning to walk away. I heard _Mami_ yell out my name twice more, but I ignored it and she didn’t follow.

I left the building and was greeted with pouring rain, which soaked me within seconds. Despite my shivering, I remained standing not knowing what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to work as there was no way I would be able to focus. I didn’t want to go to court. I didn’t want to go home.

“Hey, Barba. Earth to Barba!” a voice called, waving a hand in front of my face. I looked to see Rollins and Olivia looking at me worriedly.

“Oh, hi,” I addressed with a fake smile.

“Rafa, what the hell,” Liv expressed as she rushed over so that we were both under her umbrella.

“What’re you doing out here in the rain?” Rollins questioned bewilderedly. “Trials about to start in a couple minutes, isn’t it?”

“Hmm, yeah, I’m not going,” I informed them, not missing the concerned glances the two detectives gave each other.

“Then, what are you doing instead?” Liv asked in forced calm.

“I d-don’t know,” I stuttered through chattering teeth.

“Jesus Christ, come with me,” Liv ordered, looping an arm through mine and beginning to drag me along.

“You have c-court,” I told her, but she shook her head as she replied, “Rollins has it under control.”

I allowed her to shove me into a taxi and give them my address, but when she sat herself beside me, I began to protest.

“Liv, you-you don’t have to come h-home with me. I’m f-fine,” I assured her, and she responded with an expression that basically questioned my sanity. I said nothing more afterwards, too cold to do anything but sit and shiver. Olivia took her jacket off and tried to wrap it around me, but I shoved it back towards her. She attempted once more to put it back on me, but again I shoved it back to her, causing her to exhale in frustration.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her exasperation, which earned me a glare in return. I could see she wasn’t really angry, though, especially when she stuck her tongue out at me.

When we arrived home, she had to take my keys to open the door as my hands were so numb. Walking in, I started to make my way towards the kitchen for a coffee when Olivia grabbed my arm and pulled me towards my bedroom.

“I need coffee,” I asserted, but she just rolled her eyes while arguing, “You need to get into dry clothes.”

We entered my room at which point she released my arm, so I kicked off my shoes, threw my jacket on a chair and collapsed onto my bed.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Liv complained, “you are worse than Noah! Get up and change into dry clothes.”

Groaning dramatically, I rolled onto my back and slowly sat up. I watched with some amusement as she rifled through my drawers until she found acceptable clothing.

“If you ruined my color coding, I may have to rethink our friendship,” I joked, ending up with a face full of clothes.

“Put those on, wise guy,” she ordered, hands on her hips, and I couldn’t help but think she looked incredibly sexy.

“Would you like me to put on a show, or should I wait until you’re gone?” I asked with a smirk, and she stared back with an unimpressed raised eyebrow.

“Come out in dry clothes and I’ll consider giving you some coffee,” she remarked as she made her way out of my room.

“This is my home! You can’t tell me what to do!” I yelled in mock outrage, eliciting a loud laugh from her.

Grinning happily, I decided to take a quick hot shower to warm up before pulling on the clothes she’d given me, sweats and an old sweatshirt. Padding into my kitchen, I grinned brightly at the steaming cup of coffee she had waiting for me.

“You’re a goddess,” I declared as I slowly sipped the hot beverage.

“A goddess? Wow, you certainly have low standards if all it takes to impress you is a cup of coffee,” she spoke amusedly.

“I’m a man with simple needs,” I quipped back, causing her to snort.

I held my coffee in my hands, absorbing the warmth before taking a drink. I let out a sigh of contentment as the warmth spread through my body. Looking up, I noticed Olivia looking at me with a peculiar expression.

“What?” I asked curiously.

“It’s nothing,” she replied with a grin, “just that I’m not used to seeing you so casual.”

“Oh,” was my intelligent response, and I once more looked back down at myself, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Stop overthinking, Rafael,” Liv said with a chuckle, “it was just a passing thought. You look fine.”

I raised an eyebrow as I replied with a smirk, “Just fine?”

A light blush appeared on her cheeks filling me with curiosity. “ _What_ are you thinking, Lieutenant?” I asked with the suggestive raising of my eyebrows.

“I don’t think you’re grown up enough for this conversation,” she answered coyly, and I laughed.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” I told her.

I downed the rest of my coffee and as I was pouring myself another cup, the conversation took a more serious tone.

“What happened earlier?” she inquired softly.

All previous amusement vanished, and I let out a slow, heavy breath as I sat down.

“He did it, and I told my mom I wasn’t going to support or help defend him anymore,” I bluntly stated, looking anywhere but at Olivia.

“I take it she wasn’t happy,” she inferred sadly.

“She wasn’t,” I confirmed with a bitter smile.

“I am so sorry, Rafa,” she then said, her voice full of sympathy. “What can I do for you?” she pushed, and I finally looked over at her.

“You’re already doing it,” I answered honestly.

“Yeah, well, you looked like a drowning puppy standing out there in the freezing rain,” she teased, causing me to give her an indignant look.

“I did not,” I refuted, and her expression was pointed as she argued that I had.

I narrowed my eyes but had nothing I could say in response.

“Are you pouting?” Liv exclaimed in disbelief, and my indignant expression returned as I yelled, “I do not pout!”

An almost childish giggle escaped her lips, and this time it was me expressing disbelief as I asked, “Did you just giggle like some schoolgirl?”

“What if I did?” she retorted rather than denying.

“It was adorable,” I admitted, to which she replied, “So was your pouting.”

We gave each other identical grins, and I felt so much gratefulness and affection towards her it was almost overwhelming.

“Thank you,” I eventually told her, hoping my eyes expressed what I couldn’t voice.

I think she got the message as her eyes went soft and she simply nodded rather than replying.


	5. Testify

**Chapter 5: Testify**

Two days of the trial went by. Two days where I didn’t show up, and where I didn’t speak with anyone from SVU or my family. Sometimes I wished I was there so I could know what was happening while other times I was happy to be unaware. As it was, the trial was never far from my mind, and I knew my work was suffering as I couldn’t focus for more than a few minutes before being distracted.

To make things worse, the media had discovered what was happening, and because of how well I was known, I was being hounded by reporters both day and night. If the office had had a shower, I would’ve decided to live here.

It was around 7 at night, and I was pouring myself a glass of scotch when a brisk knock sounded on my door before it opened. Seeing Isaiah Holmes, I took a huge swallow of the scotch before refilling the glass.

“Want some?” I offered, and Holmes paused before giving a nod. He certainly looked like he could use one.

As I gave him his drink, I noticed his discomfort, which only further confirmed why he was here.

“When do you need me?” I asked plainly, and he looked mildly relieved that I wasn’t arguing before replying, “Tomorrow. I’m sorry that it’s such short notice, but the neighbor changed her story on the stand today, telling everyone how kind and loving Manuel Barba is. Your mother was also an excellent witness for the defense, coming off as both believable and sympathetic.”

Sipping the scotch, I was surprised by how unsurprised I was by what he’d told me. Ms. Murillo, the neighbor had never struck me as the type to share other peoples’ business, and _Mami_ was an excellent liar. So much so, that she was able to convince herself that Manny was a good and loving man.

“Your testimony will refute Mrs. Barba’s, but your position as ADA will hopefully lend more credence to what you say,” Holmes explained. “The psychiatrist I had was able to explain the effect abuse had on a spouse, which could explain your mother’s testimony.”

“I assume you’d like to go over my testimony right now,” I remarked rather than asked, and the man nodded.

“Would you mind doing it here rather than”—I began to ask, but he cut me off with an immediate, “Of course, that’s not a problem. Thank you for being so accommodating. I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

I made a noise of agreement before gesturing we sit at my table. I moved two chairs so that they were facing each other, making sure to refill my glass before I sat. Holmes looked disapproving but was smart enough not to comment.

The questions he asked were all ones I expected, but none that I would’ve ever wanted to talk about, let alone in front of people who knew me. Then, add that everything would be recorded by the stenographer and that the media would no doubt be told what was said…let’s just say tomorrow would be a shit storm.

How would you describe your father?

What is your relationship with him like?

What is your relationship like with your mother?

Why did you stop coming to the trial?

Do you believe Manuel is guilty? Why?

I answered honestly, but I gave as little detail as possible, not at all wanting to get into specifics of the abuse, and even less, my continued fear of the man.

“You do need to know that it’s been over ten years since I’ve seen Manuel, so we know Buchanan will use it to question my assessment. He’ll claim Manuel has changed,” I assumed, and Holmes nodded as he leaned back in his chair.

“That’s only a testament to how awful a father he was. People may consider you an asshole, Barba, but no one has ever questioned your integrity,” he informed me.

“People who work with me, know me, or have heard of me may say that, but the jury are none of those,” I countered. “They won’t hold me in the same regard. All they’ll see is a son accusing their father of being an abusive scum bag while the wife claimed he was a loving and kind man.”

“Better be believable then,” Holmes asserted, swallowing the last of his scotch. “Details are important.”

I grimaced, knowing what he was getting at. Giving him a nod, I stood up and poured the rest of my bottle of scotch into my glass.

“Are you absolutely sure you need me?” I asked even though I already knew the answer.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” the ADA replied, a note of sympathy in his tone. He told me to arrive at 8AM tomorrow before heading out.

Once the door closed, I set down my glass and let out a shaky breath.

 _Aye, Dios mio,_ this couldn’t really be happening. I was testifying. I was going to tell a room full of people that I’d been abused when one of those people was my abuser.

Any hope for forgiveness from _Mami_ would go out the window. She’d drummed into my head as a child to _never_ talk about what happened at home. Family business was family business, and loyalty meant everything. No matter what he did, _Papá_ loved us both, and without him life would be 100 times worse. I’d never broken that rule until college when I’d gotten drunk with Rita Calhoun first and then more recently with Olivia.

Downing the last of the scotch, I called an Uber to take me home. Forcing food and water down my throat to fend off a morning hangover, I got into bed, already knowing that sleep would be unattainable tonight.

When my alarm went off, I’d already been up for an hour throwing up from sheer anxiety. Picking myself up off the tile floor of the bathroom, I took a cold shower in the hopes that it would help wake me up. As expected, I’d gotten next to no sleep. Racing thoughts, worst case scenarios, and old nightmares had plagued me all night.

Like a zombie, I got myself ready for court, realizing I was in serious trouble when I put my pants on backwards the first time and then barely realized I was sporting mismatching socks until I’d been tying my second shoe.

 _Mierda_.

A loud knock sounded on my door, and with great reluctance I opened it to see Rita standing there with coffee and muffins. It was a testament to how bad I looked that she didn’t comment, only raising an unimpressed eyebrow as she walked in and towards the kitchen.

Sighing wearily, I trudged behind her, hoping she wasn’t expecting any witty banter. I grabbed the coffee cup she handed to me, giving merely a grunt in thanks before slumping onto a bar stool.

Rita watched me impassively before softening her gaze.

“Just say it,” I mumbled tiredly, and she shook her head.

“That’d be like kicking a puppy, and even I’m not that cold,” she replied, and I rolled my eyes. What was it with women comparing me to puppies? Did I really look that weak and pathetic?

“Buchanan told me you were testifying, and I figured you could use some support,” she told me, and I felt a lump in my throat.

“I can’t do this,” I blurted out, nerves getting the best of me, and I looked up in surprise when Rita scoffed loudly.

“Of course, you can,” she refuted dismissively, as if the remark I’d made was ridiculous. “I’ll deny saying this if anyone asks, but you are one of the strongest people I know. You’re also stubborn, pig-headed, arrogant, and brave as hell, so you’ll nail this.”

Blinking dumbly, I was both flattered and insulted. “Uh, thanks, I think,” I eventually said, feeling off kilter.

“Remember who you really are, Rafael,” she continued, giving me a serious look. “You’re not a little boy in the Bronx, or even the smart-ass brat from Harvard. You do know what your nickname in the courtroom is, right?”

“ _El Tiburon_ ,” I murmured, garnering me another scoff from Rita.

“Yes, The Shark,” she agreed with a roll of her eyes. “Something else I’ll deny ever saying is that as ridiculous as that nickname is, it is an apt assessment of you,” she declared, looking me straight in the eyes.

I stared back in open mouth shock, never having heard so many kind words from her in a single moment. As her words registered, though, I found myself feeling better, stronger, and surer of myself.

“I’ll be the one denying my words this time,” I eventually said with a genuine smile, “but you’re pretty badass yourself, and I never would’ve become a lawyer if it wasn’t for you.”

A brief smile adorned Rita’s face before the air between us became awkward, neither one of us making eye contact with the other.

“Good, now that the heart to heart is out of the way, let’s go,” Rita suddenly declared. “Eat this in the car, but know if you leave a single crumb, I will castrate you.”

I let out a light chuckle, already feeling my stomach start to calm.

“You just want an excuse to see my balls,” I said casually, taking a large bite of the muffin.

“You caught me,” Rita drawled blandly, typing something on her phone as she led the way out of my house.

“Pervert,” I accused, smiling brightly when I heard her cursing me under her breath.

We bantered back and forth the entire ride to the court, and as we walked up the steps of the courthouse, I stopped her momentarily to say a genuine, “Thank you,” before heading towards the witness room. Once inside, I looked around to see if I recognized anyone, and saw no one. Nerves hit me hard as I realized that the first witness for today must already be testifying and that I’d be next.

I took several calming breaths, telling myself that I was making a bigger deal out of this than I needed to. I wasn’t a little boy anymore. I didn’t have to be afraid of Manuel. He wasn’t the boogeyman. He was just an old man. A human. He couldn’t hurt me, and what I was doing now would help an innocent woman get justice.

I was Rafael Barba, and I owned the court room. I put people like Manuel away all the time. No way was I going to allow that bastard get the best of me. I would show him who I was. I would show him that I wasn’t afraid anymore.

Feeling empowered for the first time since this had all started, I eagerly awaited the chance to testify against Manuel. I paced the length of the room, buzzing with energy.

When the officer came to escort me, I noticed Olivia standing with him, eyes shining with concern.

“I’ve got this,” I told her confidently, and she looked first surprised and then relieved as she walked me the courtroom.

“I’ll be there the entire time, and when it’s all over you’re coming over to my house tonight to have dinner with both Noah and me,” she stated. “Noah’s been missing his Uncle Rafa, and he’s eager to show you how he learned to count to ten in Spanish last week.”

“I look forward to it,” I replied with a grin as we parted ways.

Entering the courtroom through the side door, I immediately sobered at the palpable tension in the room. I looked first into the furious eyes of Manuel before landing on the shocked, hurt eyes of _Mami_. I ignored the pained clench of my heart, locking eyes first with Rita who gave me a nod and then Olivia who graced me with an encouraging smile.

Sitting down in the witness stand, I pledged to tell the truth before finally setting my gaze on the prosecutor.

“Could you please state your name and occupation,” Holmes began.

“Rafael Barba, Assistant District Attorney for the Manhattan office,” I replied.

“What is your relationship with the defendant?” was the next question.

“I am his son,” I answered.

“I imagine it must be difficult for you to be here, especially given what you’re about to say,” he remarked, and I nodded my head in agreement.

“Tell me about your father. What kind of man is he?” Holmes requested, and I took in a huge breath, my eyes roving over Manuel, _Mami_ , and Olivia.

“Manuel Barba is a violent abuser,” I asserted plainly. “He can be charming, but he is manipulative womanizer who has never been able to take no for an answer. Growing up, my mother and I both knew he was having affairs as he never hid it. _Mami_ never confronted him because it would have ended in a beating.”

“Was Mr. Barba ever violent with you?” Holmes pressed, and I pressed my lips firmly before answering.

“Yes, he was. Any perceived mistakes and faults would be met with insults and painful punishments,” I admitted, my heart beginning to pound as the words escaped me. I felt increasing anxiety because I’d been raised to keep this all secret. With more difficulty than imagined, I attempted to squash those feelings.

“Did you ever see him violent with anyone outside your family?” Holmes then asked, and I shook my head negatively.

“I never saw him get physical, but I did see him lose his temper, shout and threaten people who angered him,” I recounted.

“Why did you stop coming to the trial?” he redirected

“After hearing Sara’s testimony, I realized I always knew he was guilty,” I told him.

“How could you know that?” Holmes pressed, and I looked over at Manuel staring him down as I said, “I know my father, and I know what he’s capable of. He’s used to getting what he wants, but not to anyone telling him no. I have no doubt that he attempted to seduce Sara and that when she rebuffed him, he took what he wanted.”

“One last thing, Rafael. Yesterday, we heard testimony from Mrs. Barba, your mother, and her words regarding your father are vastly different from yours. Why do you think that is?” Holmes asked.

“Objection,” Buchanan cried out. “Witness is neither a psychiatrist nor mind reader. He can’t”—

“He is her son, though,” Holmes argued at which point the Judge ruled in Holmes’s favor.

This question was the hardest for me to answer, and I couldn’t help but throw _Mami_ an apologetic look before speaking.

“My mother has been under my father’s thumb for longer than I’ve been alive. She’s financially and emotionally dependent on him, so she would never turn against him. All throughout my childhood, she made me swear to keep what happened at home a secret, insisting that Manuel loved us both and that his abuse was simply discipline.”

I swallowed nervously, closing my eyes briefly before adding, “Even today she still insists that Manuel simply has a temper, and that I should support him.” I had to look over at _Mami_ once more, and it broke my heart when I saw tears streaming down her face as she shook her head at me. I could see the anger in her eyes, and I wanted desperately to apologize and beg for her forgiveness.

“Thank you again for your testimony, Rafael, I know this wasn’t easy,” Holmes addressed me with sincere sympathy. I simply nodded, briefly pinching the bridge of my nose as a headache began to build.

“The prosecution rests,” Holmes then announced to the judge, giving me a nod of appreciation as he sat down.

I looked to the defense to see John Buchanan whispering heatedly with Manuel, and I couldn’t help but smirk as I knew Buchanan was attempting to keep him calm and quiet.

“Mr. Buchanan is there a problem?” the judge inquired irritably, and Buchanan smiled while shaking his head.

“No, your Honor,” he replied, standing up while placing a hand on Manuel’s shoulder. Manuel’s face was red with anger as he glared at me, and I glared right back.

“Mr. Barba, do you mind if I call you Rafael?” Buchanan began, and I gave my consent.

“Would it be correct to assume you hate your father?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered honestly.

“Wish him ill will?” he pressed, and while I knew where he was going with this, I still nodded.

“Hate him so much you’d say anything to get him put away?” he continued, and Holmes immediately voiced his objection.

“Sustained,” the judge said.

“Let me ask you this instead. Prior to this case, when was the last time you’d seen or spoken with your father?” Buchanan inquired.

“Ten or so years ago,” I admitted.

“You had some pretty harsh words to say about him, and while they _may_ be true, isn’t it possible that he could’ve changed in all those years?” Buchanan questioned.

“No,” I immediately replied, and Buchanan chuckled disbelievingly while looking over at the jury.

“No?” he pressed. “That’s it? Do you think your hatred for your father could be clouding your judgment?”

“It’s not,” I answered firmly.

“Why not?” Buchanan pushed, and smiled internally at the opening he’d inadvertently opened for me.

“I’ve been working as the ADA for Manhattan’s Special Victim’s Unit for six years,” I explained. “In that time, I’ve worked closely with countless victims of sexual assault and prosecuted just as many perpetrators. I’ve learned over the years how to tell when I’m being lied to. Sara Perez is telling the truth and Manuel Barba is not!” I exclaimed, slamming my hand down as emotions got the better of me.

“And we are supposed to just believe you because you’ve worked with victims before?” Buchanan continued in amusement, as if my outburst was something funny. “Forget the evidence,” he joked with a dismissive wave. “Just listen to Rafael’s gut because he knows best!”

“Objection, your honor, he’s belittling my witness!” Holmes declared in outrage while I barely refrained from rolling my eyes, and Buchanan offered the judge an apology before withdrawing his statement.

“No further questions,” he then stated, casually strolling over and sitting down as if my testimony was nothing to be concerned about.

“Mr. Barba, you are dismissed. Thank you for your testimony,” the judge informed me, and I gladly left, relieved to have this over with. Once outside the courthouse, I leaned against the wall and let out a huge, shaky breath. My heart was suddenly hammering, my emotions beginning to go wild as the stress of the testimony hit me all at once.

It was over and done with so what the hell, I thought irritably, loosening my tie and shucking off my jacket as I’d suddenly broken out in a cold sweat. Noticing the door to the court room open, I rushed away, not wanting to speak with anyone at the moment.

Spotting the bathroom door, I went in and walked to the sink. Turning it on, I scrubbed my face with cold water, hoping to wash away the sweat. Looking up at the mirror, I stared into my own tired, green eyes.

The bathroom door opened, and I grabbed several paper towels to dry my face and hands. I turned to throw the paper towels away when I finally noticed who’d walked in.

 _Mierda_.

“Manuel,” I greeted coldly, no longer pretending to hold any respect for him.

“ _Te crees bien valiente ahorrita, no, mijito?”_ he asked silkily, taking a slow, deliberate step towards me.

I raised my chin defiantly as I took a step towards him. “You’re nothing but a dirty old man,” I accused with disgust. “What’s there to be afraid of?”

“How _dare_ you speak to me like that, _niño_? Have you forgotten that I’m your _padre_ and what happens when you speak to me like that?” he threatened, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Really? I’m not a little boy anymore, _Manuel_ , I am a grown man, more respected than you could ever hope to be,” I declared proudly. “You are _nothing_ compared to me!”

Manuel closed the distance between us, and I cursed the fact that he not only was still taller but also bigger than me.

“So _eres_ _un_ big man now,” he asked rhetorically, looking me up and down with obvious disdain. “A big man who spreads lies of abuse when all I did was discipline. A big man who humiliates his own mother, leaving her in tears.”

Some of my anger flickered at those words, my heart constricting.

“I always knew you were a pathetic disgrace,” he recounted. “A cowardly, weak, _maricon_ , _pero tu mamá_ always defended you. She coddled you, but now…now she finally sees you for what you are. Now, she’s just as ashamed of you as I’ve always been.”

I glared fiercely, hating how his words were able to affect me. Him despising me was old news, but I’d always had _Mami_ on my side, _always_. I couldn’t imagine her turning against me because of how much it’d hurt. She was the only family I had left.

 _“Traicionaste_ your own family, Rafael,” he continued angrily.

“I betrayed _you_ ,” I countered hotly, “and that burns you because you’re not used to anybody standing up to you!”

“ _Cuidado niño_ , don’t forget who you’re speaking to,” he reminded. “Don’t forget what I said would happen if you failed me—if they find me guilty.”

“They _will_ find you guilty because you _are_ guilty,” I said spitefully, sporting a satisfied smirk. “And yeah, I remember you saying you’d make me pay,” I told him sarcastically, “but how exactly do you plan on doing that from prison? Besides, like I said before, _ya no me das miedo_.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, and I don’t have to come after you to hurt you,” he informed smugly. “Lucia has told me about this woman you work with, an Olivia Benson, correct? And she has a little boy, Noah? You’re close to them, she said.”

My immediate reaction was shock, and I could feel blood draining from my face. He had to be lying. What could he possibly do from prison? It’s not like he was a member of a gang or anything.

What if he’s not found guilty, though? What if he gets to go home? Just because he’s not in a gang doesn’t mean he can’t hurt them.

“Struck a nerve, did I?” Manuel jeered with a look of delight. “Those aren’t the only friends you have, though is it? There’s that woman you met in college, Rita, a lawyer like you, no? Then, there’s those detectives, the Italian boy who wants to be a lawyer like you, the gorgeous blonde _mamasita, y ese pandillero negro_ disguising himself as a cop. You trust your _Mami_ too much, _mijo_ , and you forget she was my wife before you were ever born; and _I_ have always been there for her. She tells me _everything_.”

My blood boiled at his words, and I saw red at the mere thought of him going anywhere near any of my friends. It was one thing to threaten me, but to go after people I loved… My fists were clenched tightly, nails digging into the palm of my hands.

“If you go near any one of them, I swear that I will”—I began to threaten, but he cut me off with a loud scoff.

“You will what?” he laughed, giving me a derisive look. I gritted my teeth, hating him more in this moment than I ever thought I could. Unable to stand his amusement any longer, I pulled my arm back and landed a solid punch on his face, feeling distinct satisfaction at the crunch I heard.

It took only mere seconds for the satisfaction to turn to regret, however, especially when Manuel had merely stumbled before turning back to me with a dangerous look. I suddenly remembered that I wasn’t and had never been a fighter. As a kid, it’d always been Eddie or even Alex who’d gotten into the fights, and as an adult I’d learned to let my words do the fighting.

Looking into the dark, hateful eyes of my father, my mind suddenly flashed back to that of a child, and all I could suddenly think was that I needed to run. I _knew_ I needed to run, but all I felt was frozen. That was the last coherent thought I had before the first blow landed on my face, which knocked me back into a wall.

Instinctually raising arms to protect my face, I bit my lip hard to quiet my cries as the hits landed on my arms and torso.

Don’t make a sound, don’t make a sound, I repeated over and over in head. It only makes him angrier.

I found myself automatically receding into my mind, my psyche’s way of protecting me from the abuse. These were habits I’d honed as a child and that I’d long since thought I forgot.

Knees buckling, I began sinking to the floor before being roughly hauled up by his tight grip on my tie.

My tie.

 _My tie_ , I thought numbly, some awareness of the situation coming back briefly.

Courthouse bathroom. Need to get out. _Run_.

“Let go!” I suddenly roared, pushing him away from me, only to end up yelping when I was hauled forward as he still had a hold of my tie. Yanking it out of his grasp, I scrambled towards the door when I felt him first grab hold of my suspenders and then the back of my shirt. With strength I had no idea he still possessed, he pulled me by my shirt right arm and threw me into the wall, my left shoulder and head taking the brunt of the hit.

Stunned, I slid down the wall and onto the floor, momentarily dazed. Manuel, thankfully, needed to catch his breath, which gave me the reprieve I needed to get enough of my bearings back to try and flee again.

I heard banging on the bathroom door letting me know it was locked. The banging distracted Manuel enough so I could kick his shin in order to slip past him and to the door. Unlocking it took me longer than it should have, so by the time I was yanking it open, I felt something hard hit my back, sending me careening into a couple of bewildered looking legal aides. We all landed on the floor hard, and as I rolled over, I noticed what Manuel had in his hand. That goddamn cane.

I scooted back in blind terror, realizing that he wasn’t going to stop. My mind kept screaming at me to run, run, run, run! The cane came down, and I felt the breaking of a bone as it landed on my forearm, which I’d put up to protect my head. I let out the first scream of pain since this had started, and it was pure adrenaline that allowed me to get onto my feet and stumble around the corner.

My scream coupled with the yelling of Manuel and the shouting of the two young men finally drew enough attention to stop the attack. As one of the legal aides struggled to restrain Manuel, I dimly noticed two security guards and Carisi rush over to subdue him.

How the hell could he still have that much strength and stamina?

I watched a security guard and Carisi put Manuel on the ground, Manuel yelling out in pain. Carisi was cuffing him when Buchanan arrived at his side so fast it was as if he had teleported.

Everything was chaotic to my mind. Loud sounds and bright lights. My head pounded as I tried to reorient myself.

What the fuck had just happened?

**Note: I’m sure we would’ve all liked to see Rafael kick the shit out of his dad, but I just feel like the abuse he suffered as a kid would’ve frozen him in place. He hasn’t dealt with the abuse, just pretended it never happened by basically staying away from his father. When put back into the familiar situation, his mind basically flash backed into self-preservation mode.**


	6. Pain

**Note: Thank you so much for sticking with the story and for the wonderful reviews! They make me smile!** ** Hope you all continue to enjoy!**

**Chapter 6: Pain**

There was yelling and people moving all around me. I backed up until I hit the wall as I did my best to stay out of everyone’s way. I was looking for an escape when several people appeared in front of me, people I recognized. They all looked worried, and I knew they were talking, but I couldn’t make out any words. The pounding in my head seemed to muffle their voices.

Looking back towards Manuel, I saw Fin roughly pulling him to his feet while Manuel and Carisi yelled at one another. Buchanan was holding out hands trying to calm the situation.

Cold hands were on my face, startling me, so I attempted to pull away, but the hands were firm. I put forth all the effort I could into focusing on the person in front of me, and finally realized it was _Mami_. I instantly relaxed, knowing I was safe with her, but while I was beginning to calm, she looked panicked, her gaze roving all over my face and torso.

“ _Estoy bien._ I’m fine,” I reassured her automatically, even though my entire body throbbed like a giant wound. I knew I had at least one broken bone and I was bleeding from somewhere as I could smell it. The more I was becoming aware, the more I began to notice the pain.

“ _Que pasó, Rafi?”_ she cried, and I noticed her eyes were red. “What did you do?”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—I don’t know,” I stammered in confusion, still not quite aware of everything going on, which caused me to fall back on old habits. Apologize, no matter whether it was your fault or not. 

_Mami’s_ hands were pulled away from me, and I stared in shock at seeing Olivia start screaming at _Mami_.

“Rafael, look at me,” a voice ordered, and I immediately obeyed, turning to look at Rita. The shock was beginning to leave me, the roaring in my ears dying down, and with the snapping of Rita’s fingers, I found complete awareness rush back to me.

“Fuck,” I groaned, pain hitting me hard as I pushed myself off the wall and towards Olivia and _Mami_. Rita helped steady me, and I noticed that we had garnered quite the crowd, many of whom I knew from work and some I even recognized from the jury.

Double fuck.

Liv and _Mami_ immediately noticed me and ended their argument.

“I’m fine,” I repeated, managing a small smile. “Looks worse than it is.”

Olivia looked askance while _Mami_ looked relieved.

“ _Que bueno, papito,”_ she exhaled, reaching out towards me to gently caress my face. I leaned into her touch, seeking comfort. She still looked panicky, her eyes continuously flicking towards Manuel. I looked over to see the situation had calmed a little as no one was shouting. The detectives and Manuel still looked furious, while the security guards looked bewildered and Buchanan frustrated. It wasn’t everyday an ADA got the shit knocked out of them by a defendant.

“You need to tell the officers you’re okay,” _Mami_ directed, pulling on my uninjured arm. “Please don’t let them take him to prison.”

“Are you seriously asking him to help the bastard who did this?! How dare you ask your own _son_ to do that after his father just beat the shit out of him!” Rollins exclaimed in disbelief, and I was startled by both her standing up for me, and by how strongly she seemed to feel.

“He is fine! You heard him, and don’t dare tell me how to treat my son! I know my Rafael better than any of you ever will!” _Mami_ hissed defensively, looking to me for help.

I kept my mouth shut, though, unable to argue for or against her.

“ _Hijo, por favor, hazme este favor,”_ she begged, pulling me closer to Manuel. “You owe it to us after all those horrible things you said in court.”

“Mrs. Barba,” Rita hissed, stepping into _Mami’s_ face, “you have no right to ask anything of Rafael. He owes you nothing.”

“And all he spoke was the truth, a truth that you’re well aware of,” Olivia growled angrily.

 _Mami_ began shouting right back at the women, and I was so taken aback by the entire situation. I saw the way Olivia, Rita, and Amanda looked at my mother with horror and disgust, and it caused my stomach to twist painfully. _Mami_ , on the other hand looked furious but also desperate and hurt…so hurt, which made me feel even sicker.

“Rafi, _mi vida_ , I’m begging you,” _Mami_ pleaded with wide eyes as she turned to me, “don’t let them take Manny away! You promised me you would help!”

I stared into my mother’s eyes, saw her fear, and even though it tore at me I shook my head.

“No, _Mami_ , I can’t,” I whispered, every word causing me pain. “I _won’t_.”

 _Mami_ looked at me as if she couldn’t understand or believe what I was saying. Betrayal shone brightly as she continued to plead with me.

“I will never ask you for anything ever again, but I can’t live without Manuel,” she pleaded. “Do it for me.”

“ _No_ ,” I repeated firmly, and I noticed when the betrayal morphed into anger—no, fury. I’d seen her angry. I’d seen her angry with me, but this…this fury was new. The way she was looking at me, it was almost like…like how Manuel looked at me.

My heart started to break and then shattered with what she did next.

She slapped me.

It wasn’t hard, and her horrified expression showed she immediately regretted it, but it wouldn’t take back what she’d done. Nothing could ever take back what she’d done.

She’d hit me.

She’d struck me.

 _Mami_. My mother.

The woman who had done her best to protect me.

The woman who had tended to my wounds, who had comforted me, and who had wiped my tears away.

The woman who had _sworn_ to never lay a hand on me in anger.

The pain in my body worsened, emotional pain compounding it, and the urge to run and get as far away from here as possible hit me hard. My brain felt foggy and sluggish once more, and the pounding in my ears was back. My chest felt like it was tightening, and I felt like breathing was getting harder.

Gentle hands took hold of me, being careful not to cause me pain as they quickly led me away from the chaos. I began to gasp, attempting to get air in, but it wasn’t working. My heart pounded in my chest, and I reached up to pull at my tie and collar.

A door was opened, I was pulled in, and then I was sat down on a couch. My tie was pulled over my head and the top buttons of my shirt undone, soft hands rubbing at my temples lightly.

“You’re okay, Rafa, you’re doing just fine. Just keep breathing, just like that. In and out. In and out,” Olivia instructed, her breathing more exaggerated so that I could copy it. I was beginning to calm when I felt the sudden urge to throw up. Eyes quickly scanning the room we were in, I lunged to the closest trash can and emptied the contents of y stomach.

I heard talking behind me, but only managed to make out words like “concussion” and “hospital”.

“Rafael, come on, up you go,” Liv guided, helping me to my feet.

“Carisi has a car waiting,” Rollins announced, startling me as she seemed to appear from out of nowhere. I gave her a weak glare.

“Alright, let’s go, hon,” I then heard Rita speak, and if I’d been more aware I would’ve both balked at the term of endearment and teased her mercilessly.

Both women helped lead me out, Rollins and Fin keeping everyone away from us. A jacket was thrust over me, blocking me from any bystander or reporters’ view. I could hear shouting and people running around once more, but this time I knew it was reporters trying to get to me.

It took longer than expected, but I eventually found myself being helped into a car. I groaned loudly as my pain only seemed to be surmounting. I was maneuvered into the middle of the backseat with Liv on one side and Rita in the other. Carisi was driving and Rollins was in the passenger seat. I heard Finn say he was staying behind to help get the situation under control.

I leaned forward, putting my head in one hand, my broken one being held tightly against me. I felt every one of the wounds now, my head, arm, and back hurting worst of all.

“Shh, shh,” somebody whispered soothingly, “we’ll be at the hospital in no time. Just a few more minutes.” A hand caressed the back of my neck, gently massaging it.

I let out a pained yell as the car swerved, my injured arm hitting Rita, and she immediately cursed at Carisi, who was loudly defended by Rollins. Carisi shouted an apology before Olivia yelled at everyone to calm down. None of this was helping, and I felt utterly miserable, tears beginning to prick at the corner of my eyes.

No, no, no! Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, I begged myself. I had already humiliated myself enough.

A sudden jerk elicited a whimper from me, but no one yelled this time. A door opened, and once more gentle hands pulled me out. A nurse suddenly appeared with a wheelchair, and I was placed in that before being wheeled away. Black spots danced in my eyes, blurring my vision as cotton filled my ears. My head fell forward, and I knew no more.

I jerked back to consciousness with a loud gasp, which immediately turned into a loud groan of pain.

“Easy, Rafa,” Liv spoke softly, placing a light hand on my shoulder.

I looked at her, immediately noticing the red rimmed eyes signifying she’d been crying. I then took in my surroundings, an uncomfortable bed surrounded by curtains, loud beeping and loud voices. Hospital.

I wracked my brain for what had landed me here, and it didn’t take long for memories of my father beating me to hit me as hard as his fists did. This time my groan was from pure embarrassment and disbelief rather than pain.

Closing my eyes, I looked down at my hands as I let out a drawn out, “ _Fuucckk.”_

Oh god, this couldn’t have happened. This couldn’t be true!

Everybody saw.

Everybody _knew_.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, look at me, please, Rafa,” Liv pleaded, and I reluctantly lifted my head to look at her. I could feel that my face was hot with humiliation, and I had to fight the urge to cry. I needed to get out of here. I needed to get home so that I could lick my wounds in peace. I needed to get home so that I could scream and cry without judgment—without witnesses.

How many people had seen that awful display at the courthouse? I’d gone from feeling empowered after testifying to completely powerless after Manuel was finished with me.

Why hadn’t I fought back? How could I have allowed this to happen?

He’d beat the hell out of me, and all I’d done was attempt to escape. It was like my childhood all over again.

I thought I’d grown. I thought I’d changed, but I was _still_ the same, cowardly boy from _El Barrio_ that I’d always been.

I was nothing. I was pathetic.

A hand on my leg pulled me from my darkening thoughts, and I noticed a nurse and doctor had entered my curtained room.

“Hello, Mr. Barba, my name is Dr. Reynolds, how are you feeling?” the doctor asked kindly, and I sarcastically replied, “Just dandy.”

Reynold’s lip quirked while Olivia rolled her eyes before fixing me with a look.

I withheld a sigh, deciding to play nicely. I was determining where my pain was coming from when it hit me that I wasn’t wearing a shirt.

 _Wonderful_. Injuries and old scars on display. I might as well have been butt naked with how exposed I felt.

“I hurt, but it’s nothing a few aspirin won’t fix,” I grumbled irritably, wishing more than anything to go home.

“Do you remember what happened?” the doctor asked, and I grimaced as I gave her a single nod.

“Unfortunately,” I mumbled, making sure to avoid Olivia’s gaze. “I’m sorry, but could you just tell me what’s wrong so I can go home?”

“Of course, I understand,” was her reply. “Your head took some damage, and you ended up with a concussion which is why you no doubt felt confused and nauseated. You also had a slight gash to the back of your head, which required six stitches. We put them in while you were sleeping.”

“You didn’t shave my hair, did you?” I asked with despair as I gingerly felt the bandage on the back of my head.

“No, your hair is safe,” Dr. Reynolds answered amusedly, eliciting a sigh of relief from me.

There’s a bruise on your cheek as well as all over your torso and arms. The bruise on your back is rather severe, but thankfully no bones were broken there. Your ribs may be bruised, but again, no breaks. I have a salve I’m going to prescribe you to help them heal sooner, but you’re going to be rather sore for several days. Your right arm took the brunt of the damage, unfortunately, with your ulna fracturing completely so we’ll be putting a cast on it momentarily.”

“If you don’t have the color peacock, then I refuse to wear a cast,” I threatened mutinously, and the nurse choked back a laugh while Olivia let out a groan.

“I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Barba,” the doctor responded just as dryly, and I smirked.

“Alright, I’m going to run a few tests, and then my nurse here will take care of the cast and any prescriptions you need,” Reynolds informed me.

“How long was I out?” I asked the room as the doctor flashed an annoying penlight in my eyes.

“About three hours,” Olivia answered.

I frowned deeply, wondering what had been happening since I’d left the court. I said nothing more as the doctor finished her testing and then the nurse put my cast on. It was plain blue, and I complained how it would clash with my suits.

“I have no doubt you’ll make it work,” Liv commented with a smile.

I sighed deeply, looking the ghastly thing over. Four to six weeks with this eyesore? A constant reminder of what had happened for not just me, but anybody who’d been there? How many people that I worked with had seen what happened? They’d _never_ forget it. They’d judge me. They’d judge my family. They’d never look at me the same. The SVU squad would never look at me the same. Rita would never look at me the same. _Olivia would never look at me the same_.

They’d pity me. Poor Barba with the dad who beats him and a mother who cares more for the dad than her own son. They’d think I was weak. How would anyone be able to trust a grown man who got his ass kicked by an old man without even attempting to fight back? They wouldn’t think I was capable or strong enough to handle their cases.

And, _god_ , I hoped the media didn’t know the story. If the media found out, then _everyone_ would know. This nightmare was never ending and only seemed to be getting worse.

I wanted out. I wanted out so bad. I needed to run, run away and never look back. That seemed to be the only thing I was good at, running away from my problems.

I clenched my left fist tightly, letting my nails dig into my palm.

God, I wanted out _so bad_. I felt liked a cracked piece of glass who’d promptly shatter into a million pieces if given one more hard bump. I couldn’t afford to do that in front of anyone, especially Liv.

The nurse began to drone on about how to take care of my injuries, what prescriptions I was being given, and most importantly, how to deal with my concussion. I only half listened, already knowing what she was saying as I’d tended to my own injuries as a kid.

When she walked away to get my meds and release papers, I began to look around for my shirt. Getting to my feet, I spotted it in a corner, and cursed when I saw the state of it. It was covered in spots of blood from my various injuries and if that weren’t bad enough, they’d clearly cut it off me. Really? Had I been in such a bad state they couldn’t have unbuttoned it?

“I really liked this shirt,” I complained quietly when I noticed Olivia looking at me. I wondered whether to put it back on or if the hospital would give me something to wear. Neither option was appealing.

“Rita will be here any second with clothes for you,” she informed me, and I nodded, numbness beginning to encompass me once more.

“The squad is out in the waiting room. They’re really worried, and I know they’d love to see you, but if you’re not up for it I can send them home,” she continued in that same, gentle tone she’d been using all day. I was starting to find it annoying. I didn’t need to be treated like a victim. I hadn’t fallen apart yet.

“I’ll say a quick hi before heading home,” I decided, knowing if I didn’t, they’d worry more.

“Rafa, you’re coming home with me,” Olivia stated, and I snapped my eyes to her.

“No,” I immediately replied, wanting nothing more than to be alone.

“You can’t be alone right now because of the concussion, and after everything you’ve been through, I don’t think,”—

“I’ll be fine,” I interjected firmly. “I know how to take care of myself.”

“I know that you do, but you don’t have to. I want to help, and you _can’t_ be alone after a concussion. What happens if you don’t wake up?” she pressed concernedly.

“Thanks for the concern, but again, I’ll be fine,” I insisted, feeling my anger rising. “I’m going home _alone_ , and you can’t change my mind.”

“Well, I can see you’re feeling better,” a voice interrupted sarcastically, and I watched Rita walk in, one of my duffle bags in her hand. I narrowed my eyes while holding out my hand. She handed the bag over.

“You’re welcome,” she remarked as I immediately unzipped it.

“Thanks,” I reluctantly grumbled as I pulled out a sweatshirt. It was an old Harvard one that I’d had since college and rarely wore anymore. I quirked an eyebrow at her, grumbling to myself as she smirked.

While a button up would’ve been easier to put on, the sweatshirt was infinitely more comfortable and familiar, and I needed all the self-comfort I could give myself. I put my arms into the sweater and bit my inside cheek to withhold a pained groan as I lifted it over my head. Pulling it down over my bruised torso, I was happy it still felt well. Rita had bought it for me and had gotten me a size so large I’d practically swam in it, yet despite that fact, it'd quickly become a favorite of mine. Now, it fit perfectly.

I zipped up my bag and was startled to quickly have it pulled from my possession by Rita.

“You’re either going home with Olivia or me,” she declared, her tone leaving no room for disagreement. “One night so we can make sure you don’t die, and then you can hide away if that’s what you prefer,” she finished disdainfully. I outright glared.

“You can’t make me go with either one of you, even if you keep that bag hostage,” I growled. “I have plenty of clothes at home and am more than capable of getting my own ride.”

“I’m definitely getting flashbacks to college now, and it’s not just the sweatshirt,” Rita spoke, crossing her arms as she shot me a stern look.

Olivia eyed us both curiously, and I realized that while she knew we’d been at Harvard together, she hadn’t known how close we’d actually been.

“Every time, little Rafael here went home, he’d come back a mess,” Rita recounted to Olivia, “and he’d stay in my dorm room until I was certain he was okay. The first time it happened it was his freshman year after winter break. I found him soaking wet on the roof of our dorm holding a knife after his roommates reported to me about his erratic behavior—more erratic than usual, that is,” she added with a brief touch of humor.

I flushed at the reminder. While appreciative of what Rita had done for me, it wasn’t exactly something I’d wanted Olivia to know.

“You were a bitch then and are an even bigger bitch now,” I snapped angrily, knowing it was childish of me, but too tired and overwhelmed to give a damn.

“And you’ve regressed 20 years in the span of two minutes,” she retorted, still annoyingly calm and smug. “You can continue this little show of defiance for however long you want, but you will be coming home with one of us either way. I suggest you choose Olivia as she’ll be patient and nice. I’ve dealt with your bullshit enough to know tough love is the best way to handle you, so I won’t be nice.”

She stopped speaking then, a stupid, knowing smirk on her face. I gritted my teeth, biting back insults as it would only give further credence to her allegations of me being childish and defiant. She really did know how to handle me.

I looked over at Olivia who appeared to be torn between worried and amused, and I glowered at her before stubbornly declaring, “I’m taking the couch and that’s not up for discussion.”

She immediately opened her mouth to argue before deciding better and simply nodding, looking too satisfied for my liking. The triumphant look she shared with Rita didn’t help my mood either. Damn conniving women.

The nurse finally returned, giving me my meds and release papers that I quickly signed. I allowed the women to lead the way out, smoothing out my expression to hide my grimaces of pain. Every step jostled my bruised ribs, but my old habits of hiding my pain returned just as easily as my fear of Manuel when he’d struck me. Pathetic.

Nearing the exit, I remembered with disappointment that I’d agreed to greet the rest of the SVU squad. Seeing how worried all three of them looked, even Fin, caused me to fill with shame. I bit back the automatic urge to apologize for having worried them.

“I’m fine,” I repeated for the umpteenth time today, giving them a grin that agitated my bruised cheek.

“Of course, you are,” Fin stated with an easy grin, and I was grateful that he wasn’t one to pry.

“Good to see you on your feet, Barba,” Rollins spoke with relief. “Let us know if you need anything.”

I gave her a thankful nod, knowing she too wouldn’t push. Carisi, on the other hand was the most emotional of the trio, and the closest to me as we’d spent more time together when he’d been shadowing me.

“Hey, Barba, just want you to know that your old mans in custody, and we’re gonna make sure”—he began to say, but I roughly shook my head, not wanting to know anything about the bastard right now.

Pinching the bridge of my nose at the pounding in my head that movement had caused, I quickly said, “Sorry, Carisi, but I really don’t want to talk about him right now. Do what you want, but I don’t care.”

“Oh, sure thing. I’m just real glad you’re okay, and if you need a place to stay, I got an extra room,” he informed me, looking very much like an eager puppy.

“Uh, thanks, but Olivias taking custody of me tonight,” I told him, garnering a snort of amusement from the aforementioned woman.

“Really now?” Fin remarked with suggestive eyebrows. “She gonna handcuff you first?”

“Fin!” Olivia called sharply, but I couldn’t help but tease as I added, “She wishes she were that lucky, but the cuffs won’t fit around this lovely cast.”

“Barba!” Liv then yelled in exasperation.

Thankfully, that was the end of our little kumbaya session, my injuries excuse enough to leave. Rita threatened to kidnap me if I escaped from Olivia, and I leveled her with a look promising death later before getting into the Uber Olivia ordered.

On the way to her apartment, I attempted to convince her to let me go home, but she completely ignored me, telling me how thrilled Noah would be to see me.

“You sure you want him to see me like this?” I asked in sudden worry. “I haven’t looked in a mirror, but I know I look like crap. Won’t it scare him?”

“He’ll be worried,” she agreed, “but it won’t scare him.”

“What do I tell him happened?” I questioned curiously.

“You can tell him the truth, or whatever you want. A mugging, a client…,” she trailed off with a shrug, “or nothing at all. It’s up to you how honest you want to be. And don’t feel the need to entertain him,” she added seriously. “He’ll want to play and read stories, but you can tell him no.”

“No, I’m fine,” I assured her. “I’ll take a pain pill if it gets too much, but I want to spend some time with Noah. It’ll probably do me some good.”

“I’m sure it will too,” she agreed, “but don’t push yourself. I’m bringing you home to rest, not to entertain my son.”

“Like I’ve told you multiple times today, _I’m fine_ ,” I insisted firmly, and she shook her head negatively, lips pursed together in obvious disagreement. Thankfully, we arrived at her place, so she refrained from saying anything.

We played tug of war with my bag, both too stubborn to give in, so we ended up carrying the bag together, both sporting amused smiles as we arrived at her door. We entered the apartment, and we were greeted by Lucy. She immediately asked me if I was okay, backing off when I assured her I was. She exchanged a few words with Olivia that I missed with the excited arrival of Noah.

“Uncle Rafa!” he roared with delight, running towards me, only to suddenly stop, eyes wide when he took in my sorry state.

“W-what happened?” he cried out in concern, taking tentative steps closer to me.

“Hey, _amiguito_ ,” I greeted kindly, kneeling down until I was at his level. I was thankful my legs were relatively unharmed, otherwise this would’ve been more difficult.

“Come here,” I called, holding my uninjured arm out to him. He happily came to me and was thankfully gentle when he wrapped his skinny arms around my neck.

I felt my heart warm at the feeling of the boy in my arms, this innocent little boy who was so full of life and happiness. A little boy who looked at me with loving eyes, like I was his hero.

“Are you okay, Uncle Rafa?” he whispered into my ear tearfully, and I placed a kiss to the side of his head before assuring him that I was just fine.

“What happened?” he asked again, and I pondered over what to say before telling him simply that a bad man had beat me up.

“Why?” he then pressed, and I shrugged my shoulders before answering, “He didn’t like me.”

Noah’s expression turned to outrage, and he immediately launched into how wrong bullying was, and that the bad man who did this was a bully who should be put in jail.

“Did Mommy arrest him?” he asked, and I shook my head before telling him his Uncles Fin and Sonny had.

“Good,” he declared with a serious nod that looked adorable on his young face.

Noticing my cast at this point, his eyes lit up and he asked if he could draw on it.

“Of course, you can,” I agreed. “I thought it needed some decoration as it’s really boring right now.”

The boy took off to his room, no doubt in search of markers. Standing up, I noticed Olivia looking at me with soft eyes and an endearing smile.

“You’re so good with him,” she commented, and I shrugged, smiling awkwardly as I replied, “Well, he can hold actual conversations now. Took some practice, but I no longer see him like a bomb that’s about to explode,” I alluded to the first time I’d held him. She laughed in remembrance.

“I’d offer to cook dinner, but I’m exhausted, so take out?” she questioned hopefully.

“No problem,” I assured her. “Choose whatever you want. I’m not feeling picky at the moment.”

Noah arrived back at the moment, sporting a large case full of markers. I sat myself at the cop, and he looked at my cast with a contemplative expression before grabbing a few of the darker colored markers. He began to draw while telling me what he’d been up to the past couple days. I enjoyed the simple discussion, feeling a burst of pride when he excitedly showed me how he’d learned to count to ten in Spanish.

“ _Buen trabajo, chico_ ,” I congratulated, and he beamed as he replied, “ _Gracias.”_

I’d been teaching him short phrases in Spanish, feeling both pleased by his eagerness to learn and pride in his success.

Food arrived, and after we finished, Noah continued his drawing. Exhaustion had finally caught up to me, pain starting to get worse, and I found it harder to keep up the conversation. I leaned my head back against the couch, eyes closing as my head had really begun to ache. I really wanted a shower, but the thought of moving seemed suddenly insurmountable.

“Uncle Rafas sleeping,” I heard Noah whisper loudly, and I grinned even as I kept my eyes closed.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s let him rest. Why don’t you go get ready for your bath,” she suggested, and the boy reluctantly left my side.

“Rafa,” Liv called, and I opened my eyes. “I know you insisted sleeping on the couch, but you’d sleep more comfortably in a bed and you know it.”

“Probably, but I’m not taking your bed,” I retorted with a shrug.

“You know I’m going to have to check on you multiple times during the night, so I have a new suggestion—let’s share the bed,” she stated confidently, although the look in her eyes showed nervousness.

“Share a bed?” I asked skeptically. We were best friends, and we’d been forced to share a hotel room once, but never a bed. That was a level of intimacy that we’d never touched.

There was an air of awkwardness and almost embarrassment between us that thankfully ended when Olivia let out a scoff. “For goodness sake, Rafael, we are both grown adults. I promise not to take advantage of you. Your virtue is safe with me,” she declared, and now I was the one to let out a laugh.

“Well, as long as you promise,” I teased with a smirk.

“So, are we agreed?” Liv pushed, as if we weren’t talking about us both sleeping in the same bed.

“Sure,” I sighed, sporting a put-upon expression. “If you snore or hog the blankets, deals over, though,” I had to add.

“Same to you,” she shot back.

“You’re having a sleepover?” Noah shouted in excitement, wrenching both of us back into reality. “That’s so awesome!”

Liv and I immediately looked away from one another, she rushing the boy to the bathroom while I nervously began to ponder sharing a bed with the woman I loved.

**A/N: Moving on, focus is going to be on emotional ramifications Rafael is going through, and yes, the trial will be affected by what happened. Please review!** ****


	7. Run

**Chapter 7: Run**

Showering had been a bitch. Having to wrap this goddamn cast was awful, and the thought that I’d have this dirty thing attached to me for five weeks? Why did life hate me right now?

Things only got better as getting dressed when your entire upper body is one giant bruise was no fucking picnic. I thankfully managed to pull on boxers and sweats without help, but when it came to my shirt, I was too exhausted and in too much pain. Had I been home, it wouldn’t have mattered, but no way in hell was I sharing a bed with Olivia shirtless.

It was the third time I was attempting to put it on that my frustration got the best of me, and I let out a loud curse, throwing the shirt to the floor before slamming my casted arm on the countertop. That, unfortunately, garnered another loud curse from me as pain erupted throughout my entire arm.

A knock on the door reminded me that I wasn’t alone, and I quickly choked out an unbelievable “M’fine”.

“I’m sure you are, but how about you open the door and let me see for myself,” she suggested calmly, and I considered stubbornly refusing before realizing the mere thought of bending down to pick up my discarded shirt seemed insurmountable.

Taking in a deep breath, I reached out and opened the door and allowed Olivia to step inside. Her eyes quickly assessed the situation, scanning me up and down first before roving around the bathroom. No doubt satisfied that I wasn’t in imminent danger, she gave me a curious look.

“It’s nothing,” I first stated, before amending the statement to, “It’s stupid, I mean.” Realizing that wasn’t any more informative, I vaguely gestured in the direction of my t-shirt before quietly admitting, “I can’t get my shirt on. It hur—I’m just too sore.”

There were a couple seconds of silence where I just looked down at the sink, desperately wishing I were anywhere but here. This is why I needed to be alone. Nobody should need to help me with something as simple as putting a shirt on.

“Would you like some help?” Olivia suggested kindly, and I fought a blush as I turned to see her holding my shirt. There was no judgment in her eyes, just an earnestness to help me.

“I—yeah, if it’s not too much trouble,” I stammered. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for when you agreed to have me over.”

Olivia rolled her eyes in exasperation, shaking her head before bluntly stating I was being ridiculous. “I am here to help you in any way necessary, Rafael. We didn’t write up a contract before you came here on what I’d be willing to put up with,” she continued, her tone expressing how absurd I was feeling.

I couldn’t help but smile, feeling myself relax at how blasé she was being about this.

“Now, come out, arms out in front of you,” she ordered in a business-like tone. I followed her instructions, allowing her to guide my arms through the sleeves before gently guiding it up and over my head.

“Thank you,” I told her with gratitude, and she graced me with a beautiful smile that caused the blush I’d been fighting back to finally appear.

She was gracious enough to not comment, instead asking me if I needed help with anything else.

“Uh, no, I’m good, thanks,” I replied, quickly turning back to my toiletries and pulling out my toothbrush. God, could I be anymore awkward?

I managed to finish the rest of my bedtime routine like a proper adult, and when I walked out into the bedroom, I noticed Olivia was already lying on one side of her bed.

 _Fuucckk_.

“Your pain meds are on the bedside table there along with a glass of water,” she informed me, and I quickly took two, hoping they’d work quickly.

Looking at the bed and then at Olivia, I was about to ask her if she was sure she wanted us to share when her glare and growled, “ _Get in_ _the bed_ ,” caused me to snap my mouth shut.

 _Por Dios_ , did she know how hot she was being right now? She was literally ordering me into her bed.

I quickly got in bed, struggling with how best to lie down. With the multitude of bruises I had, finding a comfortable position was difficult. I ended up settling on my left side, which led me to looking right into Olivia’s eyes as she was facing my direction. This time, I wasn’t the only one to blush, and while I hid my face in a pillow, she shifted to lying on her back so she was staring at the ceiling.

There were several awkward seconds of silence before I snorted in amusement, which set us both off into a fit of laugher.

“I’m sorry,” Olivia wheezed out through her laughter, “but we’re both acting like teenagers who’re about to have sex for the first time.”

“I knew you were trying to seduce me,” I teased immediately, trying to ignore the fact that she’d actually said sex while we were in bed together. Yeah, I definitely felt like a teenager.

“Here, this should protect your innocence,” she joked back, placing a pillow between us. Jokingly or not, I was relieved she’d done that as I was afraid of my body’s responses if we somehow ended up touching in the middle of the night. I’d always avoided of thinking of her in a romantic way, but now that we were in the same bed, my stupid _homo sapien_ mind was taking off.

“Good night, Rafa, I’ll wake you in a couple hours,” Olivia then said, reaching over to turn her bedside lamp off before turning so her back was towards me.

“Night, Liv,” I whispered back before closing my eyes.

I didn’t anticipate sleeping well tonight since I’d be woken every few hours, but it wasn’t Olivia that kept me from sleeping, it was nightmares, stupid, childish nightmares.

I tried to sleep; I really did. I knew I needed it, but I also wanted to escape the reality of the situation, if only for a few hours. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to remember, but my mind seemed to hate me as much as the world did right now. There was no respite.

After the first nightmare, I just couldn’t fall back asleep, my thoughts racing over everything that had happened today, and how I should’ve done things differently. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I should’ve fought back. I should’ve known better than to be alone with him. My thoughts grew more and more ridiculous the longer time went on, but no matter how exhausted I became, _I just couldn’t sleep._

Olivia’s alarm had gone off twice already, and I’d feigned sleep when she’d checked on me. I was glad she was able to fall back asleep each time. She needed it.

What’s going to happen with the trial? I could swear I’d seen jurors in the crowd, and I knew that could lead to a mistrial.

Where were my parents right now? Was Manuel in custody? Was he being charged? Did I want to press charges?

What was _Mami_ thinking? Was she still angry with me? Would she ever forgive me?

How would I ever get over this? How could I ever show my face at work after what they’d all seen? I’d been seen as nothing more than a victim.

It was sometime between after the fourth and last alarm of the night that I finally managed to fall asleep. It wasn’t the blessed respite I was longing for, however, as my consciousness found itself back in my childhood body.

I was running, running, running, but it was like I wasn’t getting anywhere. Large shadows followed me, laughing and jeering at me. The environment suddenly changed, and I whimpered at finding myself in my old bedroom. Heavy footsteps and a loud bang on my door brought out another whimper, fear enveloping me as the large, imposing figure of my father stood before me.

He was yelling, and I couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was angry, and it was my fault. I apologized over and over, promising to be good, to be better—to be whatever he wanted me to be! It never mattered what I said, though, because the hits always came. First, the slaps, sometimes a punch or kick and then a healthy dose of his belt. If I was lucky, it was just the leather of the belt, but if I was unlucky, it was also the buckle.

I sank to the floor, arms covering my head as his belt came down hard and fast. I bit my bottom lip hard, tasted the blood as my teeth tore through scabs. I did everything I could to stay quiet, but as always, the pain began to become too much.

“ _Lo siento!”_ I screamed. “ _Por favor, Papá, perdóname,”_ I begged desperately. Pain radiated throughout my entire body, and when strong hands grabbed at my arms, I let out a panicked yell.

 _“Mami! Ayúdame, Mami!”_ I hollered, knowing asking for help was a huge no-no, only leading to further pain, but being unable to help.

“Rafa! You’re okay!” a voice yelled, and I shook my head, a pathetic whine escaping me as I fought against the hands holding my arms.

“Please!” I begged, swallowing back a sob.

“Rafael, it’s alright, you’re having a nightmare. It’s just a bad dream,” a soothing voice told me, but I was so scared and confused that I fought back against the stranger. I felt my fist come in contact with someone before I felt like I was falling. I was yanked out of the nightmare right as I landed on a carpeted floor, pain exploding on my back and head.

 _“Mierda!_ ” I cursed, rolling onto my side while grabbing at the back of my head.

“Shit! Rafa, are you alright?” Olivia yelled, appearing at my side.

“Mommy, what’s going on? Who’s yelling?” Noah questioned fearfully, his messy curled head peering into the room. The lights on the room were switched on, and confusion filled the boy’s eyes as he took in the scene.

I was panting heavily, thoughts in a panic as I looked wildly about the room.

“Oh, nothing, sweet boy, Uncle Rafa just had a bad dream,” she informed Noah, and I forced myself to take slow, calming breaths so that the next time he looked over I was able to offer up a small grin. Closing my eyes once he looked away, I tried to slow my rapid heartbeat.

 _Aye, Dios mio,_ I can’t believe I just freaked out over a nightmare! Could this get any worse?

Olivia was whispering reassurances to Noah, hopefully explaining away this embarrassing fiasco. As much as I loved the boy, I was in no shape to answer questions or offer comfort right now.

“Are you okay?” I heard Noah ask, and assuming he was speaking to me, I looked up to answer when I realized he was speaking to Olivia.

“What? Oh! This is nothing, I just tripped and fell,” she told Noah, her tone light as she rubbed at her cheek.

Brow furrowing, I forced myself to my feet, gritting my teeth tightly to withhold groans of pain. Lights danced in front of my eyes, and I pinched the bridge of my nose as my head began to pound. Had the pain meds already worn off?

“Uncle Rafa,” a tentative voice addressed, and I opened my eyes to see the boy looking at me with deep concern. He was still in his mother’s arms, which I was thankful for because I wasn’t sure I could kneel down.

“ _Hola, amiguito_ ,” I spoke softly, “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“It was a really bad dream?” he questioned, and I gave an honest nod.

“Do you need a hug? When I have nightmares Mommy always hugs me and lets me sleep in her bed,” he explained. “You’re already sleeping in Mommy’s bed, so maybe a hug will help,” he suggested.

My heart melted at his honest desire to help me, so I nodded my head.

“I would _love_ a hug, Noah,” I told him with a smile.

“Sweetie, I’m going to hold you while you hug Uncle Rafa, and remember to be careful because he’s injured,” she reminded her son, and I was grateful. I closed the distance between us and allowed Noah to wrap his arms around my neck. He was just as gentle as he was earlier today, but unlike before, he placed a light, wet kiss on my bruised cheek before letting go.

“A kiss to make it feel better,” he informed me, no doubt parroting words he’d heard his mother tell him before.

A lump formed in my throat, and I had to look away as his affection was threatening to overwhelm my already fragile emotions. My eyes went to Olivia and immediately zeroed in on the large red mark on her cheek. She looked like she’d been punched, and from personal experience, I knew that would bruise. My mind told me to suggest she ice it as it would minimize bruising, but that’s when the reality of the situation caught up with me.

I dreamed I’d punched someone. I’d _felt_ my fist collide with someone.

No.

_No._

A choked sound escaped me, ice spreading through my veins as I realized that I’d punched Liv. I’d hurt her. I’d hurt someone I loved.

I noticed both Bensons looking at me, their mouths moving, but the roaring in my ears made it impossible to understand.

Run.

I need to run.

I need to go _now_.

I backed away rapidly, eyes searching the room for my shoes, aware enough to know that leaving without shoes would get me nowhere. Shoving my feet into the shoes, I was heading for my bag when Olivia appeared in front of me, hands held out to stop me from moving. Her standing in front of me only gave me another look at her red cheek, and with growing guilt, I choked out a broken apology.

“I’m leaving,” I stated, mind made up. Stepping around her, I grabbed my bag, fishing out my phone so that I could call an Uber.   
  
“Rafa, stop, please,” Olivia called as I made to rush out of the room. Her hand landed on my shoulder, but when I flinched, she instantly let go.

“Uncle Rafa, where’re you going?” Noah asked in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Noah, but an emergency came up and I need to go. Everything’s fine,” I quickly spoke, guilt increasing as the boy’s confusion morphed into concern and fear.

I heard Olivia reassuring Noah behind me as I stepped out into the hallway, and I was hopeful I’d make it out of the apartment with no more drama, but luck wasn’t on my side.

“Rafael, wait! Stop and talk to me, _please!_ ” Liv begged, rushing so that she was once more in front of me. Her eyes like that of her son were full of worry and fear, but there was also guilt. What did she have to be guilty about?

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said sharply, gesturing towards her wound. “Look what I did to you!”

“It was an accident, Rafa!” she insisted loudly. “You were having a nightmare and I should’ve known better than to grab you.”

“You better not be blaming yourself,” I scoffed disbelievingly. “Me hitting you aside, I’ve clearly lived through the night, so your babysitting shift is over,” I asserted, showing her that it was 4:30 AM on my phone.

“I’m going straight home to get more rest, so there’s no need to worry anymore,” I continued, using logic as means to convince her. It seemed to work, as she paused momentarily. It was clearly only so she could come up with an argument, though.

“Could you at least wait a little—till daylight at least, or-or”—she struggled to come up with suggestions before I cut her off with a firm, “No.”

“You’re upset, I get that, but you shouldn’t go out like this,” she continued. “Let me get you a cup of coffee or something.”

I was getting ready to say no again, when I heard Noah call out, “Uncle Rafa, don’t go. I’m sorry.”

Olivia immediately ran to him, and I refused to look back, instead using her distraction to leave.

I pushed thoughts and feelings away and focused only on getting home, so focused, that how I arrived was a bit of a blur. In a haze, I unlocked my door and trudged to my bedroom. Digging my pain meds out of my bag, I swallowed a couple dry before kicking my shoes off and getting into bed. Pulling the covers completely over myself, I grabbed a pillow, wrapped my arms around it before burrowing my head it. Then, and only then did I finally allow my feelings to catch up.

The block I’d held on the events of the day, the memories, pain, humiliation, hurt, and guilt flooded back to me. All alone with no one to see or judge, I finally let out the tears I’d been fighting back since this whole affair had begun. I bit down on the pillow as a sob escaped me, shutting my eyes tightly as my body shook.

Never in my life had I ever felt so utterly alone. I’d always had _Mami_ and _Abuelita_ growing up, and _Abuelita_ was dead while _Mami_ now hated me. I curled tightly into a ball, doing all I could to keep myself together. I was falling apart, and I couldn’t do that as I had no one to help put me back together.

I couldn’t trust anybody, not even Liv, Rita, or the squad. They were friends, yes, but to let them see my pain—to let them see me at my most vulnerable, I couldn’t afford for that to go wrong. I would never recover if they too betrayed me.

I must have cried myself to sleep because the loud buzzing of my phone startled me out of a blissful dreamless sleep. Poking my head out of the cocoon I’d created for myself I glared furiously at the offending device before reluctantly grabbing it.

Rita.

 _Fuck_.

Knowing that ignoring her call would lead to her showing up here, I dragged the device into my cocoon and answered it with a gruff, “Leave me alone.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t storm into your house and drag you over to mine,” she greeted exasperatedly.

“Kidnapping charges,” I quipped, grimacing at the silence that followed. Silence meant she was pissed.

“I’m coming over,” she declared, and I groaned before quickly saying, “No, no, no, no, Rita, come on, I’m”—but I didn’t even manage to finish my statement before she cut in.

“Tell me you’re fine and you’ll be at my house for a week,” she threatened icily, and I groaned again.

“I’m as good as can be given the circumstances,” I amended, attempting to sound as upbeat as possible.

“So, you’re not currently curled up into a ball under your covers,” she stated more than asked, and I immediately retorted with a “No,”, wincing when I realized how defensive I sounded.

“I’m coming over,” she declared once more, her voice coming out more worried than threatening this time.

“Please don’t,” I begged, “I just want to be alone.”

“We both know that’s an awful idea,” she argued. “I’ll be there in five.”

I couldn’t even reply as she hung up. I glared furiously at my phone calling Rita back, but she refused to pick up. Huffing, I chucked my phone, telling myself that Rita could show up, but that didn’t mean I’d get up to let her in.

She’d said she’d be here in five, which meant she must’ve already been on her way before calling me. Stubborn old hag!

Minutes passed before I heard loud pounding on my front door. My phone then rang, and I cursed myself for having thrown it without silencing it first. I put the pillow over my head, drowning out the noises until they stopped. Relaxing as I felt she must have left, I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door to my bedroom burst open.

Poking my head out, I looked in horror at Rita’s imposing figure in my doorway.

 _“Por Dios, mujer, que haces en mi cuarto?!”_ I yelled out, voice cracking at how startled I was. She rudely ignored my question.

“You are a high-profile ADA whose had multiple threats against your life, and you leave your front door _unlocked_?!” she basically shrieked, and I winced, immediately burrowing back into the safety of my cocoon.

“Oh no you don’t,” Rita hissed, and I felt her tugging at my comforter. I gripped onto it tightly, fighting against her.

“Rafael Barba, get your Cuban ass out of that bed this instant!” Rita ordered, managing to uncover my head. I glared heatedly at her, throwing out curses as she continued to yank the blanket out of my hands.

“You know cursing at me in Spanish means nothing as I _don’t understand it_!” she yelled, but that only spurred more curse words. Of course, I knew she didn’t understand. Why the hell did she think I chose Spanish rather than English. I did value my life, after all.

“I’m charging you with breaking and entering, and assault,” I then declared as she gripped the back of my shirt and forcefully hauled me out of bed.

“I haven’t laid a finger on you and your door was unlocked, so there was no breaking,” she argued as I yanked my shirt out of her hands.

“You look worse than yesterday,” she commented, looking me up and down.

“Bruises get worse before they get better,” I grumbled, attempting to cross my arms, but finding it somewhat difficult with the damned cast.

“Benson called me and told me what happened,” she informed me, any previous irritation with me gone.

I looked down at the floor as I couldn’t stop from admitting, “I hit her, Rita. I didn’t mean to, but I still did it.”

“From what she told me, it was an accident,” Rita responded, “and she didn’t seem angry at all. She’s really worried about you. We all are.”

I continued to stare at the floor, unsure of what to make of that statement.

Olivia wasn’t mad? Could that be right?

I’d hurt her, though! What if it’d been Noah? My stomach clenched tightly at the mere thought.

Rita’s hand landing on my head, gently smoothing my hair back evoked a quiet hum of contentment from me. I looked at her with weary eyes, and she sighed softly as she asked, “Have you slept at all?”

“A couple hours,” I answered, and she dropped her hand.

“I want coffee,” I suddenly asserted, making my way out of my room and into my kitchen. Rita followed closely, and while she didn’t seem quite approving of me drinking coffee, she said nothing, just accepting a cup with a nod of thanks.

“You can’t bottle this up, Rafael, or it will tear you apart. You _know_ this,” Rita warned bluntly. “Hiding out in your bed and trying to forget what happened will only delay the inevitable. None of this is going away. You’re going to have to give a statement, and while you probably won’t want to, charges will be brought up against that old bastard.”

I cringed at the thought of giving a statement. Nobody but Manuel and I knew what happened in that bathroom, and who knew what he’d been saying. I was the one to throw the first punch after all.

I gripped the cup in my hand tightly, emotions reeling as my mind raced through what if’s and what I needed to do. There were questions I wanted to ask, but there were also answers I was afraid to hear.

“Look, I’ve known you for over twenty years, and I’ve never seen you this bad,” Rita stated. “I’m admitting to being worried, so you know this is serious. I’m more than willing to talk or just listen, if you want, but if it’s not me, then _find someone else_ ,” she urged, forcing me to look at her.   
“Olivia told me she’s bringing you dinner,” she then remarked, and I looked up in surprise before frowning deeply. Was it a good or bad thing that she was coming?

“She probably wants to torture or murder me without witnesses,” I commented blandly.

“God, you are so dramatic,” Rita scoffed with a shake of her head.

“I see the way you look at her, and I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Take advantage of her being here and _talk_ to her,” she pushed, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

“The way we look at each other?” I questioned suspiciously. “She’s my best friend—no offense,” I added, and she rolled her eyes.

“Please, there’s a running bet in both our building and SVUs on how long it’ll take you two to get together,” she informed me with an amused smirk. “The only people who aren’t aware of how in love you two are, are you two idiots.”

I opened and closed my mouth several times, flustered at the unexpected bit of information.

“I’m not in love with her,” I disagreed hotly, knowing that was a lie. Rita clearly did as well, as she shot me a pointed look as she took a sip of her coffee.

I blushed, looking down at my coffee cup.

“You’re more annoying than usual,” I complained, and she laughed before retorting, “And you’re more of a pain in the ass than usual.”

I snorted at that.

Rita did a fantastic job at keeping my mind off what was happening as she spoke about anything not involving work. I heard about two boyfriends and her plans for a future vacation and I felt almost normal by the time I heard a knock on my door.

I noticed it was already after 5PM and blinked in shock at how quickly time passed.

“That must be the lieutenant,” Rita mentioned, grabbing hold of her purse before going to answer my door.

Rita and Olivia exchanged brief greetings before Rita came and gave me a one arm hug in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

“Behave, or I really will ground you to my home for a week,” she threatened dryly, and I sputtered in outrage, asserting that I was a full-grown man and she couldn’t force me to do anything.

Her response was a short laugh as she left, and I resisted the urge to yell some more.

“She is so damn insufferable,” I complained loudly as I shut the door, automatically taking the bag of food from Olivia and taking it to the kitchen. “She’s treating me like a kid.”

“More like her kid brother…or at least that’s my assumption,” Olivia said in mild amusement, and I frowned briefly before sighing, recognizing the truth of her words.

“I think you two are pretty adorable,” she then told me.

I turned to look at her for the first time since she arrived, noticing the red mark on her cheek had turned into a bruise. Whatever I’d been about to retort died in my throat, my heart sinking.

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t,” Olivia ordered. “We’re going to eat first, and then we’ll talk, okay?”

I reluctantly nodded, not at all looking forward to our impending conversation.

What would she say?

What would I say?

Could I trust her?

How much should I say?

What if she really was angry?

What if she hurt me too?


	8. Perspective

**A/N: I am doing something different this chapter. It will start in Rafael’s POV, but then switch to Olivia’s so we can get her perspective on everything that’s happened. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 8: Perspective**

Liv and I sat in my living room in absolute silence. I wished desperately for some scotch, but it wouldn’t mix well with the medication I was on. The silence wasn’t the comfortable kind we usually had, and I resisted the urge to fidget uneasily.

“I’m sorry for hitting you and for upsetting Noah,” I apologized, breaking the silence.

“My cheek is fine, and I don’t need an apology for that, but I’ll accept the apology for upsetting Noah,” she returned, looking me in the face. “He cried himself to sleep after you left, and I ended up keeping him home from school. I had to tell him repeatedly that you weren’t angry with him, and that you were going to be okay. He, like me, is extremely concerned.”

I buried my head in my hands, massaging my temples to try and ease my ever-present headache.

“Are you angry with me?” I had to know, and her brows furrowed in mild confusion as she shook her head negatively.

I lay back on the couch and kicked my feet up on the coffee table in front of me.

“Rafa,” Liv called quietly, and I turned my head. “I am so sorry for what you’ve been through. Even before yesterday I knew this case was taking a toll on you, but after what happened…I can’t begin to imagine what’s going through your head right now.”

I scoffed loudly, giving her a bitter look. “My dad, who I hate, is a rapist and he kicked my ass. It’s not a big deal, so I don’t need you to treat me like some victim. It’s just family drama that ended up being aired publicly.”

“Is that what you really think?” Liv pressed disbelievingly. “Family drama? This is so far past that, Rafa, you must know that. Your father _attacked_ you after you testified against him for _raping_ someone. This doesn’t make you weak.”

“Doesn’t it?” I snapped heatedly, as she hit upon one of my reoccurring thoughts.

“I let Manuel get under my skin before I let him beat me,” I informed her. “I didn’t even fight back,” I choked out, shamefaced. “All I did was try to run like some scared little boy.”

I looked away from Liv, disgusted with myself as I felt tears well up in my eyes. My hands were shaking, so I clenched them into tight fists.

Dammit, I’d already said too much. I should’ve kept my mouth shut! I knew better. If everything stays secret, then there are no problems. Let the secrets out and there will be hell to pay. That’s what _Mami_ had always told me.

What the hell?! Why am I still listening to what _Mami_ said like it’s the gospel truth? Clearly, her judgment was skewed.

“You don’t need to go through all this alone,” Liv spoke, giving me a thankful reprieve from my thoughts.

“In fact,” she continued, “you _can’t_ do this alone. I understand that you just want to hide away until you’ve dealt with all this, I _really_ do, because that’s exactly how I felt after William Lewis.”

She had my full attention now, sympathy and concern coursing through me. William Lewis was the only man who I felt more hatred for than Manuel. I knew everything that had happened between them. After Lewis’s death, she had confided in me when she’d been staying at my place. I’d offered it up so that she wouldn’t have to be alone and was shocked yet pleased when she’d accepted.

I could see what she was getting at. After both kidnappings and the trial in between, I’d wanted nothing more than to help Olivia heal. Thankfully, she’d had a therapist to help her and eventually she’d confided in me. I didn’t want to see a therapist. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

The worst wasn’t over yet. Manuel wouldn’t accept charges of assault lying down. He would argue, no matter how guilty he looked.

Dios, I still had to give a statement, I thought tiredly.

Olivia’s hand settled on my right knee, and she gave it a light squeeze to capture my attention again.

“I’m not saying you have to speak with me, but you need to talk to _someone_ ,” she urged, unknowingly echoing Rita’s words. “If you don’t know who to talk to, then I can make you an appointment with my therapist or get recommendations for other therapists.”

I pursed my lips, feeling sick at the thought of discussing my family with a stranger, even one Olivia trusted.

“ _I can’t_ ,” I whispered, giving her a look pleading for her to understand.

“Yes, you can,” she argued fervently. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

I shook my head not in disagreement, but against her insistence on me speaking. I needed to protect myself. I needed to put my walls back up.

“When do you need me to make a statement?” I probed, obviously changing the direction of the conversation.

Olivia looked indecisive before answering, “Tomorrow, if you’re up for it. The sooner the better.”

“At the station?” I then asked, and she nodded her head, looking at me with so much sympathy it was almost unbearable.

“Rafa, tell me what I can do to help,” she cajoled, scooting closer to me. I jumped to my feet, unwilling to allow my defenses to be broken down. I couldn’t let her in. I _couldn’t_.

“Thanks for dinner, Liv, but I’m really tired, so if you could just…,” I vaguely gestured in the direction of the front door, not wanting to outright tell her to go, but hoping she’d take the hint.

A heavy sigh was let out as she stood to her feet. Her expression showed even more concern than when she arrived, if possible, and the guilt ate at me.

“I’ll be fine, Liv, I just need time,” I assured her with a kind smile. “I’ll text you before I come over tomorrow.”

“Okay, take care of yourself, and please _don’t hesitate_ to call if you need anything,” she told me, grabbing hold of the fingers of my left hand. “I’m here for you.”

“I know,” I replied, feeling both warmth and cold at her words. Warmth from her obvious care, and cold from my fear of letting her get any closer to me. Turning away, I headed towards my room, hearing as she left.

How could I trust anyone when my own mother turned her back on me? If she didn’t care about me—if she wouldn’t fight for me, how could anyone else?

Shoulders sinking, I swallowed more pain meds before heading to bed. Wrapping myself back up in my cocoon, I forced myself to relax, burrowing my head into my pillow. Tears quickly soaked the pillow, self-loathing and loneliness coursing through me.

I had no one but myself to blame for this situation.

**Olivia’s POV:**

I sat in my office waiting for Rafael to arrive as he’d just texted he was on his way.

I felt horrible for the man. From the second I realized Manuel Barba was his father I knew things were going to be hard. Rafa had told me about his relationship with Manuel and how he hadn’t been in contact with the man in years. From the initial interview with the elder, I could understand why. He was arrogant, but not in the amusing or appealing way Rafa was. He was cold and angry, everything I expected, but none that I wanted to see knowing that this was a man that my best friend had to grow up with.

When Rafa had walked into the precinct that first day, I’d seen how pale and shaky he was. He’d looked uncomfortable, lost, and conflicted. I’d wanted to comfort him, but I couldn’t. His mom had shown up, and I’d immediately seen the pull she had on her only son. Rafael would do anything for her, so I hadn’t been surprised as the rest of the squad when he’d interrupted Manuel’s interview to inform us he’d hired Manuel a lawyer, John Buchanan. I had wondered why he hadn’t chosen Rita, but I knew now it was because she and Rafael were closer than I originally thought.

I knew from the beginning that Manuel was guilty, and it had pained me to see Rafael attempt to stand by his side, knowing how hurt he’d be. He’d wanted so desperately to believe there were lines even his father wouldn’t cross.

The day Manuel had arrived for his second interview, the brief interaction I’d witnessed between him and Rafael had sickened me. I’d wanted to rush to Rafa’s defense, but I knew it wouldn’t have been proper, and would only have embarrassed him.

I’d then watched him and his mother discreetly, noticing how she’d pushed for her son to join the meeting between Manuel and Buchanan. When he’d walked out, I hadn’t missed his pale expression nor the way he’d basically bolted out of the squad room. Even Buchanan had looked disturbed, only increasing my concern. I wished I could’ve asked what had happened.

Instead, I settled for dragging my friend out of his office and bringing him to dinner at my place. Seeing him so upset, I’d given into the urge to have him rest his head in my lap and run a hand through his hair. It was softer than I imagined, and I was both amused and relieved at how he’d seemed to melt at the touch, all tension leaving his body. He’d practically been purring like a cat. 

Rafael and I were close. He was my best friend and I loved him. I knew he loved me too, but we’d never explored having a romantic relationship. We may have flirted, but it’d always been playful. I didn’t know if I wanted to be with him like that, but I did know I was too afraid to try. I was too afraid of ruining our relationship. I was closer and more open with him than I’d ever been with anyone else, even Brian and Ed, and I didn’t want to risk ending that.

Having his head in my lap had been the most intimate we’d ever been, and I’d loved every second. It’d been a huge disappointment when I’d gotten the call of new evidence against Manuel, especially when he’d immediately left. 

Day one of court, and I’d watched Rafael almost more than I’d watched the actual trial. His expression remained blank, but I could see the turmoil in his eyes, especially when he rushed from the courtroom at the first break. He’d been shaking when I’d walked into the room, and I’d wanted so bad to pull him into a hug. Instead, I hoped my mere presence could provide him even a small amount of comfort.

The next time I saw him was standing out in the freezing rain soaking wet and shivering. His expression had immediately set me on edge as it’d been almost empty. Giving Rollins a meaningful look, I’d dragged the stubborn man into a cab and to his home. Both amused and concerned, I’d had to force him to get into warm clothes, relieved that he was still able to joke.

When he’d come out, I was further relieved to see him looking better. He still wasn’t his normal self, however, only further emphasized by the casual wear and messy hair. I’d seen him without suits before, but never this casual. Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help but find him more sexually appealing than usual.

Rafa had informed me at this point of his decision to no longer attend the trial. He’d finally come to terms with his father’s guilt. I’d felt so bad for him, especially when I heard Lucia hadn’t handled the news well. I felt angry on his behalf that she would side against her son. Leaving him had been hard, but I was satisfied that I’d at least left him in better condition than I’d found him in.

When Isaiah Holmes said he planned on having Rafa testify, I couldn’t stop myself from arguing against it. I knew how difficult testifying about abuse was, and it would only be more difficult as it was his father he was discussing. I’d only had to talk about Lewis, but he wasn’t someone I’d known or ever cared for prior to being kidnapped and assaulted. Isaiah had insisted, explaining why it was necessary, and while I’d understood it’d still been difficult to accept.

I’d been shocked when that same day Rita had called me asking how Rafael was doing. I’d known the two of them had been to college together, but Rafael had never told me they’d been close. I didn’t think he kept it from me. It was just that it’d never come up, and I’d never thought to ask seeing as how antagonistic they could be with each other in court.

Rita explained how she heard Rafael would need to testify and assured me she’d check on the man the day of and bring him to court. I’d felt immensely grateful, especially when she texted me the day of that she’d managed to embolden her old friend. When I’d brought him to the courtroom, he’d certainly looked more confident than I’d seen him since the who trial had begun.

He’d done perfectly, but it’d been horrible to watch. I’d felt sick hearing the things he’d said and knowing that things had to have been worse than he said. I could tell he was keeping many details to himself. I’d been worried when Buchanan began his questions, but once again, he’d done so well. He’d been the perfect witness, and a glance at the jury showed that they believed every word.

Rafael had left, and I’d wanted to immediately rush out and see him, but another witness was testifying, and I hadn’t wanted to leave Sara alone.

When we were dismissed for lunch, I’d walked out, immediately speaking with Isaiah to see if he’d had the same thoughts regarding Rafael’s testimony. He’d agreed that it’d gone very well.

What happened next was something I’d never forget. I’d heard yelling and had instinctually headed towards it. It took mere seconds to recognize Manuel’s voice and hear the threats he was yelling. Full out sprinting, I’d frozen in shock when my eyes had landed on Rafael. Fin and Carisi had rushed past me, but I could only stand there as I saw my best friend’s battered body.

His pupils were blown wide and full of fear and confusion as he hugged the wall, looking at Manuel and then around the room. His shirt had been pulled out of his pants, his suspenders hanging uselessly. There were spots of blood on his collar, and his dazed look led me to believe he had a head wound. His right arm was held against him, and even though his sleeves covered it, I could tell it was broken.

“Jesus,” Rollins sighed in disbelief, pulling me out of my state of shock. I shook my head and rushed to his side, noticing Rollins, Rita, and Lucia Barba joining me. Each of us attempted to ask Rafael how he was doing, but while he clearly saw us, it was as if he couldn’t understand what we were saying.

Concussion, my mind supplied clinically. 

Lucia cupped her son’s face in her hands, finally able to get his attention. He mumbled he was fine, which nobody believed, so I was taken aback when Lucia had not only accepted his words but immediately demanded to know what _he’d_ done, as if the beating he’d received was _his_ fault.

Horror and then rage hit me, and I roughly pulled the older woman away from Rafael.

“How dare you ask him what _he_ did, as if this were somehow his fault!” I yelled, emotions getting the best of me. “Your husband is a monster who assaulted his own son! Is this how you reacted when he was a kid?” I asked, appalled at the thought that Rafa may have always been made to feel he was at fault for his beatings; because I knew there were definitely beatings now. Rafael had always made it sound like he was occasionally smacked around, still awful, but better than being beat.

Lucia glared furiously at me snapping back how I had no right to interfere in her family’s business.

“Rafael is _my_ son, and you know nothing of what things are like in our family!” she shouted, getting right in my face.

Our argument was cut short when we both noticed Rafael stumbling towards us. Lucia reached for him immediately, Rafael once more assuring her that he was fine. Lucia expressed her relief, and I found my feelings for the woman continuing to plummet. They reached dead bottom when she began to plead with Rafa to tell the cops that he was fine, and to not allow them to take Manuel to prison.

Amanda butt in, looking as horrified and pissed as I felt, and she berated the woman for daring to ask this of her son after he’d been assaulted by Manuel.

Lucia snapped about how she knew her son better than any of us before once again attempting to plea with Rafael.

I thought Lucia could sink no lower, but she proved me wrong when she told Rafael that he needed to save his father because he owed it to them for all the apparent horrible things he’d said in court.

Rita and then I began castigating her for how callous she was being, but it did nothing as she continued to beg the obviously concussed Rafael. It seemed he had enough awareness of what was going on, though, because he told her no. She begged one last time at which he again said no. That’s when the worst happened: she slapped Rafael. She slapped her own son.

Manuel’s abuse was known, but Rafael had never spoken a harsh word against his mother. He’d sung her nothing but praises, his love for her obvious. To see a woman he loved so dearly strike him…it broke my heart because I knew it broke Rafa’s heart.

His expression turned to absolute shock and then devastation in a matter of seconds. His breathing picked up in pace, and I could sense the panic attack that was coming. Gently grabbing hold of the injured man, I’d led him to an empty room and sat him down. 

Rafael yanked at his tie, so I pulled it over his head before unbuttoning a couple buttons of his shirt. Rubbing his temples, I did the best I could to ease some of his panic and pain. He did seem to calm, but it lasted only moments before he was lunging for the nearest trash can, emptying the contents of his stomach.

“We need to get him to a hospital now,” I declared.

“He definitely has a concussion,” Amanda added seriously.

Rita and I went to help Rafael up, and we shared a concerned look at his pale, sweaty skin. His eyes were once again unfocused as we helped him to the Carisi’s car. We placed him in between us, and when he leaned forward with a moan of pian, I massaged the back of his neck.

Arriving at the hospital, Amanda rushed out to get a nurse, who thankfully brought out a wheelchair. Rafael was wheeled in, and that was the last I saw of him for several hours.

Waiting had been nerve wracking, the silence tense as nobody was speaking. We all were lost in our own thoughts and looking at the faces of Rita and my squad, I could see a lot of what I was feeling: shock, anger, and concern.

The doctor showed up in the nick of time as I’d been ready to snap. Hearing his injuries, I clenched my fists, wanting to go after Manuel myself.

“He’s been charged, right?” I turned to ask my detectives.

“D Felony, and he’s being sent to Rikers as Mrs. Barba couldn’t post bail,” Carisi informed me, and I nodded in satisfaction.

Turning back to the doctor, I asked if I could see Rafael. He explained that he was currently sleeping, but that I could visit.

“He’ll need to be monitored tonight, so I suggest he go home with one of you, or one of you stay with him,” the doctor suggested.

“I’ll go pack him a bag,” Rita announced, looking my way as she added, “I assume he’s staying with you.”

I nodded, thanking her before allowing the doctor to lead me to Rafa’s room.

Walking in, tears welled up in my eyes at how badly he looked. They’d removed his shirt, and placed him on his side, no doubt due to the large painful looking bruise on his back. I belatedly recalled seeing Manuel wielding a cane before he was handcuffed.

Continuing my assessment, more bruises become apparent all over his torso and arms, the broken one looking downright nasty in its temporary cast. Worse yet, even through the bruises I could see scars, some faint and small, and others larger and thicker. I felt sick and had to sit down and breathe deeply to calm my rolling stomach.

A gasp pulled me from my dark thoughts, and I stood up as Rafa sat up, moaning from pain. I helped him calm before watching as he became aware of his surroundings. I saw the second he remembered what happened, horror, despair, shame, and guilt all appearing. The shame and guilt bothered me the most as he had no reason to feel either.

He looked like he was falling apart, and I struggled to come up with what I could do to help him. I wanted to rush over and hug him, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate that right now. The doctor and nurse entered the room before I came to any decision.

They questioned him, and I couldn’t help but shake my head as he snarked at them. I listened attentively to instructions for care seeing that Rafa’s mind was elsewhere.

When Rita arrived, I found amusement at her interaction with Rafael. She treated him like a younger brother, and I found myself pleased that he had someone in his corner. The amusement vanished, however, didn’t last as she recounted having found a young Rafael on the roof of his dorm building with a knife. I had immediately wanted to ask for more of the story but didn’t think it was the time or place.

Rafa, of course, put up a fight when he found out I was bringing him home with me, but I took no offense as I’d reacted similarly after my encounters with Lewis. 

Once at my apartment, I found my heart melting as I watched his interactions with Noah. He was so good with my son. It was clear that both loved each other, and I idly found myself wondering what life would be like if we began dating. He would be the perfect dad to Noah, I just knew it.

The point at which I suggested we share a bed I was almost as shocked as Rafael appeared to be. It was purely for practical reasons, but still, I had to fight a blush at the thought of sleeping next to him.

Once we were in bed together, I couldn’t help but laugh at how nervous we both obviously were. I cracked a joke, noting as a light blush colored his too pale cheeks. I wondered what he was thinking. For both our benefits, I placed a pillow between us.

His nightmare had broken my heart. I’d awoken to him whimpering, and I’d immediately attempted to wake him up. He’d reacted badly, yelling out for his mother and fighting me. I’d nearly been in tears at hearing the absolute terror in his voice. Right before he woke, he landed a good punch to my cheek with his casted arm, but I’d barely felt it as I’d seen him fall off the bed with a startled yelp. I’d wanted to rush to his aid, but Noah had chosen that moment to show up, so I’d gone to him.

I saw the boy’s worry and fear, so I scooped him up to reassure him that everything was good. Rafael did a poor job of helping, but I didn’t blame him. He eventually managed to stand and attempt to calm Noah, but that’s when he’d noticed my cheek. His eyes had widened in shock that quickly turned to horror and guilt as he backed up. He shook his head as if denial before beginning to rush about to grab his things.

Realizing that he was trying to leave, I’d tried but failed to stop him, heart constricting at seeing the door shut and hearing my son’s crying.

After managing to calm my son, I’d struggled with what to do. I knew Rafa shouldn’t be alone. As desperately as he wanted to, I knew from personal experience it wouldn’t help him.

In a spark of inspiration, I decided to call Rita, hoping she’d have better luck at getting through my friend. She had seen him in a similar state when they’d been in college. The counsellor had immediately agreed, saying she would go at once.

I mentioned that I wanted to bring him dinner, and she said she’d stay with him until I arrived. Feeling some relief, I decided to get some rest, not having slept much the night before.

Arriving at Rafa’s, I’d been pleased to see him looking better than he had last night. Rita had definitely helped, so I’d thanked her as she left, fighting a laugh when she threatened Rafael.

Dinner had been awkward and the silence deafening. It hadn’t improved as we’d moved to his living room.

I’d subtlety observed him, heart sinking as his mood seemed to drop the more time passed. When we finally started conversing, his mood dropped even more, and mine along with it. I’d done my best to get him to talk or convince him to talk with a therapist, but he’d be adamantly against it. I’d understood his reservations as I hadn’t wanted to speak with a therapist after Lewis. Fortunately for myself, the NYPD mandated it.

I wondered if I could speak with McCoy and convince him to mandate Rafael see one. I felt guilty at the mere thought, though, knowing Rafael would feel hurt or even betrayed by me going behind his back. Lord knew, the last thing he needed right now was any more betrayal.

When he basically ordered me to leave, I’d felt like an utter failure. I hoped that he’d get a good night’s sleep and be more open to help today, but I doubted it. He was coming in to discuss what happened, and that would only make him more defensive and closed off. I’d seen the walls he’d begun erecting yesterday, and knew they’d only grow stronger. I needed to get past them and quickly if I had any hope of helping him heal.

I _could not_ let this break Rafael. I _would not_ let this break him.


	9. Drown

**Chapter 9: Drown**

Standing in the elevator, I took calming breaths to help myself stay relaxed. I didn’t know why I was making such a big deal of this. All I needed to do was talk about what happened. Manuel beat me up. That’s it. Sucked, but was no big deal. It’s not like it was the first time, anyways.

God, I wish it really was that simple, but the hammering of my heart and the nails cutting into my right palm said otherwise.

_Cálmate, pendejo!_

I fidgeted with my left jacket sleeve, hating how it clashed with my cast. I hadn’t dressed to my usual standards, but I still made sure to dress nicely with dress pants, a polo, and jacket. I had showered, shaved, and even gelled my hair. No need for anyone to think I was greatly affected by what happened.

It’d just been a fight between two men…a fight I’d embarrassedly lost, but just a fight. Who cares that it was my _padre_.

My phone went off as I exited the elevator, and I froze when I noticed it was _Mami_. Swallowing nervously, I wondered what I should do. This was her first attempt at contacting me since the incident. What could she want?

To apologize?

Scold?

Beg?

I resisted the urge to gnaw on my bottom lip as I settled for answering the phone. My brain told me I’d regret answering, but my heart told me I’d regret not answering.

_“Hola, Mami,”_ I greeted cautiously.

“Rafi, how are you, _papito_?” she asked in genuine concern.

My muscles relaxed as I replied, “I’m fine. How are you?”

Her breath was shaky before she answered, “I-I’m not doing well. _Tu papi_ was arrested after…they’re charging him with felony assault, and I couldn’t afford his bail.”

I said nothing in response, knowing that saying, “I’m sorry,” would be a lie.

“What do you want?” I questioned warily.

“Look, _mijo_ , I’m so sorry for about what I did,” she apologized remorsefully. “I never should have slapped you no matter how angry I was. I love you so much, Rafael, you must know that.”

A lump settled in my throat as I nodded my head. Knowing she couldn’t see it, I cleared my throat and told her, “I love you too, _Mami_ , _y está bien. Ya sé que nunca lo volverás a hacer._ ”

“Sï, I’ll never do it again,” she quickly agreed, sounding relieved by my understanding.

I too was relieved by her apology, especially since I could hear the sincerity in her voice. She truly was sorry, and I _knew_ she loved me. I sported a small smile as this conversation was going better than I anticipated.

My good mood was ruined, though, at her next words.

“I need your help. I can’t afford to get Manny out of jail, and Mr. Buchanan says he won’t be his lawyer for the assault charge,” she informed me rapidly, knowing I wouldn’t like what she was asking me.

“Could you please help?” she pleaded, her voice thick with tears. “I know Manny hurt you, and _lo siento mucho,_ Rafi, but you know how your _papi_ is. He was hurt by what you said in court, so he lost his temper. Besides, he said you threw the first punch, so you can’t blame him for fighting back.”

I felt both hurt and anger flood through me and had to fight the urge to snap.

How could she blame me?

I had thrown the first punch, though.

How could she ask this of me?

What didn’t I just give in to her? What harm would it do to me? It’d make her happy.

It’s not my job to make her happy! Manuel is a monster, and I owe him _nothing_.

“I won’t help him,” I spoke firmly. “Right now, I’m at the station getting ready to give my statement.”

“How can you do this?” _Mami_ asked in bewilderment. “I know what he did was wrong, but he doesn’t deserve to go to jail for this. He’ll apologize”—

“Manuel has _never_ apologized for anything in his life, and I guarantee he won’t apologize for beating me,” I retorted scathingly, anger finally getting the better of me.

“ _Rafael_ ,” she began chidingly, and I simply hung up, gripping the phone tightly in anger, hurt, and renewed betrayal.

“Barba,” a voice called, “you alright?”

I turned to see Fin giving me a look of concern. I didn’t want to imagine what he was thinking, so I forced my expression to relax as I nodded. I didn’t bother with an explanation as I walked over towards him. I could tell he was assessing my state, and seemingly satisfied, graced me with his crooked grin.

“Liv told us you were coming in to give your statement,” he remarked, an undercurrent of sympathy in his tone.

“Better soon than later,” I returned dryly.

He simply nodded in agreement before leading me into the conference room where Olivia, Carisi, and Rollins were already waiting.

“You need the whole team to interview on an assault case?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course not,” Liv immediately responded, giving me a kind smile. “Carisi will be conducting your interview…if that’s okay?” she tacked on uncertainly.

I thought the question over, wondering who this conversation would be easiest with. Honestly, none of them. Why didn’t Olivia want to interview me, I then wondered curiously. Head already aching, I stopped thinking and replied, “That’s fine.”

She nodded before coming over, patting me on the shoulder and then leaving. Rollins greeted me with a smile, telling me it was good to see me before following Fin out and closing the door.

Letting out a sigh, I sat myself in one of the chairs, Carisi looking indecisive before seating himself across from me. He looked uncomfortable, which for some reason caused me amusement.

“Relax, Carisi, you’re freaking me out. I haven’t seen you this quiet with me since…never,” I drawled, and he chuckled, relaxing somewhat before turning suddenly turning professional. Before he began, however, a question suddenly occurred to me.

“How did you guys land this case? It’s not exactly under your purview,” I stated curiously.

“Barba, are you serious?” the detective asked disbelievingly. “You’re one of us, so of course we took the case. Nobody hurts one of our own and gets away with it,” he declared strongly, and I couldn’t help but smile at that, warmth spreading through me. What a difference from my own mother’s reaction.

“Thank you,” I felt the need to say. “Now, let’s get this over with.”

“Right, so run me through what happened,” he said, pen at the ready to write down my recount.

I hated that there would be a record of this, available for anyone to pull up.

“After my testimony, I went to the restroom,” I began, keeping my voice even, “and as I was drying my hands, Manuel stepped in. I didn’t notice until later, but he had locked the door. He was angry over what I’d said in court, appalled at my gall. Called me a coward, traitor, disgrace, and said _Mami_ would hate me now as much as he did.” I noticed the way Carisi’s jaw clenched at my words, which both touched and bothered me. How could something so trivial as name calling upset him?

“I responded that I wasn’t afraid of him anymore, and that the only person I betrayed was him,” I continued. “I called him a rapist and a monster. He told me to watch how I spoke to him and then reminded me of the threat he’d given me if I failed to get him exonerated.”

“What threat was that?” Carisi interrupted, brows furrowed. “And why would he expect you to get him out of this? You weren’t even his lawyer.”

I let out a loud, humorless chuckle. “Listen, Carisi, every bad thing in Manuel’s life is my fault. It never mattered that I wasn’t his lawyer. I was to do _everything_ in my power to make sure he wasn’t found guilty, and if I failed, he made the vague threat of making sure I paid for that failure.”

Carisi’s professionalism dropped as he sported an outraged expression. I stopped him from saying anything, though, as I continued speaking.

“I scoffed at the threat, saying there was nothing he could do to me when stuck in prison, and he replied that he never said he would come after me,” I recounted, pausing as I didn’t want to admit the rest. I didn’t want to tell him how my own father had threatened them all. I flicked my eyes towards the one-way mirror, knowing at least Olivia was on the other side listening. She didn’t need to know this.

“What happened next?” Carisi pushed, giving me an opening when he asked, “Is this when he attacked you?”

“I threw the first punch,” I admitted bluntly, and Carisi looked taken aback, pen hovering above his paper. I could see the wheels turning in his head.

“You said he wasn’t threatening to come after you, so who was he threatening?” he pressed, and I cursed his detective skills. I would have to be honest, but _por Dios_ , I didn’t want this information getting out there.

I sucked in a huge breath, looking away from him as I dismissively said, “Uh, just people I knew.”

Carisi stared at me, patiently waiting for me to expand. He had to have inferred by now, so why make me say it?

Because that’s not how it works, I chided myself. You have to say it.

I tapped my fingers on the table in agitation, huffing out a breath before finally answering, “He threatened to hurt all of you, Noah, and Rita. I knew it was empty as there’d be nothing he could do when in prison, _but_ …I let my temper get the best of me, so I punched him.”

I let out another humorless chuckle before continuing my embarrassing tale. “I regretted the action immediately as I recalled that I wasn’t a fighter, and the look he was giving me, it was absolute fury.” I looked down at my lap in shame, hoping I wasn’t blushing.

“I flashed back to my childhood,” I admitted, still unable to make eye contact with Carisi. “All I could think about was protecting myself and getting away. When people began banging on the bathroom door, it gave me the opening I needed to shove Manuel away and get out. Just as I was leaving, I was hit hard on the back, which knocked me to the floor. Manuel was holding his cane, and when he brought it down again, I put up my arm to shield myself. Bystanders tried to stop him, and I took the chance to run, and then…well, everybody knows what happened,” I finished, feeling a sense of relief that this part was over.

Now, my fervent hope was that whatever lawyer Manuel obtained would convince him to take a plea deal. Lord knew I didn’t want this going to court. I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to handle it.

“Okay, I think we’re good, now, unless there’s anything else you’d like to add?” Carisi questioned, thankfully not commenting on anything I’d said.

“Nope,” I immediately answered.

A loud knock on the door sounded, Olivia walking in along with Holmes, Rollins, and Fin. The look on Holmes’s face put me on edge, and I could assume what he was about to say.

“Mistrial,” I grunted before the others had settled themselves, and Holmes heaved a sigh as he nodded.

“There were jurors that witnessed the altercation between you and Manuel, and the judge felt the event would cause prejudice,” he explained.

“She figured they’d indict him based off what they saw happen rather than off the evidence,” Carisi translated automatically, even though everyone knew what Holmes had meant.

Goddammit, I thought furiously.

“There’ll be a new trial, of course,” Holmes announced, “and I’m even more certain we’ll get a conviction after you testify about Mr. Barba’s reaction to your original testimony.”

_Mierda_.

I took my left hand and massaged my temples, wishing I’d brought my pain meds. I didn’t even want to testify against Manuel regarding the assault, let alone testify once again about the abuse. The damned assault only opened me up to more questions I didn’t want asked or answered.

“And if I don’t want to testify again?” I asked aloud, stone faced when everyone turned to look at me with varying degrees of confusion, concern, and understanding.

“Is that a hypothetical, or are you deciding to not testify?” Holmes asked, voice not giving away his feelings.

“I don’t want to testify,” I declared honestly, allowing emotions to reign over logic. “I don’t want to be a part of any of this anymore. You have plenty of evidence without me—by the way, who’s the prosecuting attorney on the assault charge against him?”

“I am,” Holmes replied, and I raised an eyebrow at him before deciding not to question it.

“You plan on pleading this out?” I inquired, and he nodded affirmatively.

“Good luck with that,” I remarked with a smirk. “Manuel has and never will admit to doing anything wrong, and since I threw the first punch, he will blame me the entire thing on me. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he attempted to file an assault charge against me.”

“No prosecutor would ever dream of taking on a case like that,” Carisi asserted with a scoff of derision. “They’d take one look at the pictures of your injuries, and”—

“Pictures?” I interrupted in surprise before immediately realizing that, of course they would’ve taken pictures of me.

Liv looked ready to explain, but I held a hand up while shaking my head and saying, “Never mind, stupid question.”

“Mr. Barba,” Holmes addressed, “if your father refuses to accept a plead, then this will go to court, and you know as well as I do, that without your testimony, the likelihood of a conviction is”—

“Negligible,” I finished for him. “I know.”

I could sense and see Holmes’s frustration, and although I shouldn’t, I felt amused. I felt a sense of empowerment, which made no sense to me. Idly, I wondered if perhaps I really should seek therapy.

“Okay, you know what, guys, let’s table this for now,” Olivia ordered. “Isaiah, you do what you do, and if you need Rafael at any point, then we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, okay?”

Looking unhappy, but understanding there was no use pushing the matter, the attorney nodded his head before leaving.

Leaning back and kicking my feet up onto the table I looked around the room in an almost daring way.

Go ahead and push.

I dare you to ask.

Try and get me to talk.

Feel pity.

Convince me to testify.

Pry into my life.

My thoughts must’ve been expressed on my face or I perhaps I gave off the vibe, because uncomfortable yet concerned gazes were exchanged amongst the squad. I could tell there were things they wanted to say, but they wisely kept their mouths shut. Their eyes continually flicked towards Olivia imploringly, obviously expecting her to _handle_ me.

That irritated me, and I abruptly dropped my feet to the floor, standing up.

“Not that this hasn’t been fun and all, but I’ll be leaving now,” I informed them. “I’m sure you have more important things to be concerned with that my family drama. I’m positive I’m not the only one from a broken home, so please stop treating me like a victim. It was a fight, one I lost. I honestly wouldn’t be bothering with charges if I didn’t know that you lot and Rita would haggle me until I agreed.”

“Barba, come on man, don’t be like that,” Fin cajoled, giving me a disapproving look. Ever the protective big brother, I thought in annoyance.

“We’re just trying to help you out because we’re worried,” Rollins spoke up, and I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets.

“I didn’t ask for your help, and save your worry for someone who needs it,” I snapped, unable to hide my increasing anger.

“Rafael,” Olivia called out in a scolding tone that hit a nerve as she sounded just like _Mami_.

“ _Don’t!”_ I snapped furiously, my eyes flashing. “Just stop! Stop helping! Stop caring! _Just stop!_ I don’t need or want it, so just leave me alone!” I yelled, surprising not just them but myself with the intensity of my anger.

I left at that point, not wanting to see their expressions or hear their responses. I also didn’t want to still be there when the embarrassment and regret hit, which it did when I was in the Uber taking me home.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!

What the hell was I thinking? What the hell did I do?!

I covered my face with a hand as I closed my eyes. I barely refrained from groaning and cursing out loud, not wanting to alarm my driver.

My phone went off, and I shut it off without looking to see who it was. There was no one I wanted to speak to or hear from at this moment.

Walking into my house, I made sure to lock the door, not wanting any unexpected visitors, meaning Rita. She’d been the only one with the balls to barge into my house. In fact, turning my phone on, I quickly sent out a text to her that I wasn’t a danger to myself before shutting it off again. Hopefully, that would keep her away.

My next step was to disconnect my house phone. No one would be disturbing me.

Walking into my kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of scotch and my pain meds, downing a couple pills with a swig of alcohol. I took the bottle, foregoing a glass, into my living room, settling myself down onto my couch and turning the TV on to a random channel for background noise.

Getting drunk sounded like the best thing I could do. Sleeping brought nightmares, and waking hours brought pain. Alcohol could dampen the feelings and hopefully make me forget, at least for a moment.

That’s all I wanted. A brief moment of respite from the constant cacophony of thoughts going through my mind. Painful memories, guilt, shame, and worry was all that my mind and body could focus on, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I was so tired, so damn tired.

Why did all of this have to happen? Why, why, why? It wasn’t fair!

Tears began to well up in my eyes, and I quickly took another swig of the scotch.

Another sip.

A gulp.

Burning down the throat.

Fuzzy thoughts.

No relief, though.

It wasn’t going away.

The pain was still there.

Why? Why did I hurt so much?

I curled up on the couch despite my protesting ribs, tugged the throw blanket off my couch and wrapped it around myself.

A knock sounded on my front door, a female voice calling out. The voice sounded muffled, so I couldn’t tell who it was or what they were saying, but it could only have been Rita.

Goddamn interfering woman!

I refused to move or speak, satisfied the door was locked and no one would be entering. I closed my eyes, willing all thoughts and feelings to go away.

The knocking stopped, and I felt smug satisfaction at making Rita turn away. Take that, you old troll!

I snaked out a hand and reached for the bottle of scotch, mourning its emptiness. I didn’t want to get up and grab another. I needed to invest in a minibar and install it next to this couch. Maybe a minifridge with food, so I wouldn’t have to leave except for the bathroom.

Better yet, move all that into my bedroom, because then I’d have a comfortable bed and a close restroom. All I’d have to worry about would be food deliveries. I never had to go out again. No need to deal with the troublesome world.

A noise at the door caught my attention. The lock was being undone. Somebody was coming in.

I closed my eyes tightly, covering my entire self with the blanket. Goddamn Rita probably threatened the building supervisor with some sort of ridiculous lawsuit to convince him to open the door. 

_Maldita sea._

The door opened, and I heard the supervisor’s voice. He, unsurprisingly, sounded nervous. The voice I had in return, though, wasn’t Rita’s, but Olivia’s.

Fuck.

This was worse than Rita. She’d just drag me out of bed and force me to eat while distracting me with teasing and ridiculous stories. She didn’t push for talks of feelings, which Olivia would. Olivia knew how to bush past all my barriers, and I could only hope she was unaware of that.

The door closed quieter than it had opened, the lock being secured once more before hesitant footsteps made their way closer. They headed first in the direction of my bedroom, and I idly wondered if I could make a run for it before recognizing the ridiculousness of that. I wasn’t going to run away from my own home. Besides, the thought of walking sounded entirely too troublesome.

“Rafa,” Olivia called out, concern evident in her tone. She was still searching for me, but I refused to answer her. I stupidly hoped she’d go away.

Her footsteps were more rapid as they came back my way, and I could imagine the crease in her brow as her concern increased. I knew I should feel bad, but I found myself feeling more detached than anything. Not quite numb, but too tired to care maybe.

“Rafael!” Olivia yelled, sounding much closer than before as well as angry. I’d been found.

There were seconds of silence where she probably waited for some response from me, but I remained silent. Talking required too much energy.

Slow, hesitant footsteps made their way towards me, stopping when they were right before me. She must have knelt, because I could feel her breath on the blanket I was covered with.

I heard her shift around before hearing the drone of the TV change to soft classical music.

“Please tell me this bottle wasn’t full,” Liv remarked, only a hint of disappointment in her tone.

I attempted to respond, but that required too much work, so I just made a noise.

She seemed to take that as a yes, for she let out a sigh.

The hard clink of glass on my hardwood floor revealed she was upset, but when I felt her hand land where my head was, it was as soft and gentle as ever.

“I’m going to pull this blanket down so I can see your face, is that alright?” she asked quietly, and I made a noise that I felt said no, but she clearly interpreted as a yes for the blanket began to move.

A moan of dissatisfaction escaped me as cool air hit the top of my head and then my face. I scrunched my eyes closed, not wanting to see the look on her face or eyes.

“You look like hell, Rafa,” Liv commented not unkindly. “I doubt drinking a full bottle of scotch helped either. Mind showing me your eyes, please?”

I very reluctantly opened them, and my heart skipped a beat at not just how close she was, but also how beautiful she looked.

“You’re beautiful,” I blurted out, eliciting a startled laugh from her.

“Well, you’re beautiful too,” she retorted with a teasing smirk.

I narrowed my eyes, somehow feeling I was being made fun of.

“I’m tired,” I whispered, and her eyes turned sympathetic as she nodded, one of her hands softly caressing down my cheek once.

“Everything hurts,” I then admitted, and it wasn’t my pain, but hers that caused my breath to hitch.

“I know, but you’re not alone, Rafael,” she insisted, her hand moving to the top of my head. I leaned into the gentle touch, craving it like a man dying of thirst would crave water.

“You have friends who want to help you, _not judge_ ,” she continued, beginning to run a hand through my hair.

“I like that,” I murmured appreciatively, and she smiled as she replied, “I noticed.”

Neither one of us spoke as she continued her soothing ministrations. We looked at each other, and I was relieved to see no judgment, derision, or disappointment in her eyes. There was nothing but kindness and something I couldn’t quite identify. 

“My mother hates me,” I eventually spoke, tears welling up in my eyes. “She called this morning to apologize for slapping me, but then she asked me to help Manuel. Told me it was my fault I got beat up. Shouldn’tve said those things cuz I knew he had a temper, and that I started it all anyways by throwin’ the first punch,” I explained, words starting to slur.

“She’s wrong,” Livia stated softly yet firmly. “I’m sorry she hurt you.”

I squinted my eyes, fighting back tears of pain. It wasn’t simply hurt, it was _agony_.

“She’s all I had,” I spoke, voice cracking with emotion. Olivia’s hand stilled momentarily before once more continuing to run through my hair.

“No, she isn’t,” Livia insisted fervently, leaning closer to me. “You have me and Noah, Fin, Carisi, Rollins, and Rita. We’re your friends. We’re your _family_.”

Tears obscured my vision before they began to fall slowly down my cheek. Family, she said.

“Family isn’t always those you were born with. Sometimes it’s what you make it,” she spoke, “and you’re part of _my_ family.”

I’m part of her family.

None of this made sense to me.

I was so confused.

“This is all my fault,” I expressed brokenly, and she frowned as she asked, “What’s your fault?”

“Everything,” I answered. “Shoulda kept my mouth shut. Knew better. I _knew_ better. Don’t talk ‘bout family stuff, _ever_ , _Mami_ always said. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut, Livia?”

“Rafa, listen to me, you did _nothing_ wrong,” Olivia asserted, both her soft hands cupping my face, thumbs wiping at some stray tears. “None of what’s happened is your fault. It’s Manuel’s. It’s _always_ been Manuel’s.”

“That’s not what _Mami_ says,” I argued pathetically, tears continuing to fall. “I knew better than to push. _Why_ did I have to push ‘im?”

“You didn’t push him,” Livia refuted, her voice calm but her eyes blazing with emotion. “You did an incredibly brave thing testifying against him, and you put yourself through that because it was the _right_ thing to do. I am so sorry for what Lucia is saying, but no matter how much she loves you, it doesn’t make what she’s said correct.”

“She doesn’t love me. _He_ doesn’t love me,” I said. “Liv, what’s _wrong_ with me?” I asked desperately. “Why does all this hurt so much? Why can’t I get over what happened? Why am I so _fucking_ pathetic?”

I forced my hands up from the blanket to cover my face, shame flooding through me.

“Sorry,” I cried as a sob escaped me.

I felt as Olivia wrapped her arms around me, my forehead landing on her shoulder as I failed to choke back my sobs.

I couldn’t make out what Olivia was saying, just her continuously soft, gentle tone.

I eventually wrapped my own arms around her, holding on tightly as if she was my only lifeline.

I was drowning, and at the moment she was all that was holding me up.

**Olivia’s POV:**

I held onto my best friend, his tears soaking through my sweatshirt. I had no doubt my own tears were soaking into the back of his shirt.

His crying was nearly silent, gasps of breath the only sound he allowed himself to make. The shaking of his shoulders and constant flow of tears showed me how distraught he was.

I kept my grip firm, but not too tight as I recognized he was still injured. His grip on me, however, was almost vicelike as if he was afraid I’d disappear, as if I were the only thing grounding him.

I’d known he was in a bad way, especially after his loss of temper at the station, but I hadn’t known he was this upset. I’d given him several hours to calm down before deciding to contact me. I’d originally taken the coward’s way out, attempting to call him, but his phone had immediately gone to voice mail. Calling his home phone resulted in the same thing. I knew it was because he’d turned off/disconnected them.

I’d considered calling Rita, but somehow knew that was the wrong move. I instinctually knew I’d be the only one capable of getting Rafael to open up. We were each other’s best friend, and as no one knew me better than him, no one knew him better than me.

Arriving at his apartment I’d been unsurprised by getting no answer. I knew he wanted no visitors. Feeling stubborn, I’d convinced the building supervisor to let me in. I’d immediately walked towards his bedroom, brows furrowing when I saw the door open and the bed empty. I entered briefly just to see if he were in the restroom, but he wasn’t. I called out, but received no response, causing me concern.

Could he be hurt?

Was he not here? If so, then where was he?

I walked into the kitchen and saw no sign that he’d been here recently. Dishes that had been washed were already dry.

The living room was the next place I checked, and I immediately let out a, “Rafael!”, partially in exasperation and partially in relief. Relief left quickly, though, as the lump under the blanket didn’t move. I took in the empty bottle of scotch and only grew more concerned.

Cautiously approaching so as not to startle the man, I knelt down next to him and asked if he’d drank the whole bottle. A small noise was the response I was given, but it let me know he was awake, listening, and coherent enough to understand what I was asking.

I gave him forewarning before I gently yet firmly pulled down his blanket, uncovering his face.

Oh, Rafa, I thought sadly as took in his tortured green eyes. They were so open right now, the alcohol no doubt to blame for his lowered inhibitions, further exemplified when he blurted out that he thought I was beautiful.

I couldn’t help but tease back that he was also beautiful. It wasn’t a lie. Rafael was an incredibly handsome man, something I’d never failed to notice, but also had never acted on. The closer we got, the harder it became to ignore. I couldn’t deny that I was sexually attracted to him. 

I ran a hand through his hair, pleased at how much it seemed to soothe him. I had a stray thought of utilizing such a tool when in the middle of an argument with him, feeling a burst of amusement at the imagined expression that would cross his face.

I brushed those thoughts away as he began to speak, his voice so small, lost, and full of pain.

His mother’s rejection hit him harder than almost everything else, I felt. She’d always been in his corner, a rock keeping him steady, but had left him now when he needed her more than ever.

That he thought he had no one bothered me as I thought it would’ve been obvious by now that he at least had me.

I’d underestimated the impact his abuse had on him. He’d so expertly hidden it from everyone, most of all himself. I hoped the next time I broached the subject of a therapist he’d agree because he was in desperate need. I could be there for him, but I couldn’t help him properly process and deal with the abuse he’d suffered growing up.

As terrible as it was to see my friend in so much pain, I’ll admit to feeling some relief as tears were a release. He bottled so much up, that I hoped this would prove somewhat cathartic.

Let this be the breaking point, because all that could follow would be healing.

**A/N:** **So, Rafael’s tongue was a little looser here due to the alcohol, allowing Olivia to finally break through his barriers. This is his rock bottom, so while everything won’t be miraculously fixed after this, he will start to heal.**


	10. Breathe

**Chapter 10: Breathe**

I woke up slowly, humming lowly at the feel of fingers on my scalp. I wasn’t in my bed. My head was on a pillow that was on someone’s lap. The fingers continued to lightly play with my hair as I reluctantly opened my eyes. I immediately began to rub at them, the grittiness annoying me.

A quiet laugh was given, a laugh I knew so well. It was Olivia.

I lowered my hand and looked up to see Olivia looking down at me with eyes of both amusement and affection.

“You’re absolutely adorable when you’re waking up,” she teased, and I wanted to frown or glare, but only ended up yawning.

She laughed a little louder this time, and I attempted to roll away, but my body was stiff with pain so all I ended up doing was turning my head and moaning loudly.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, Rafa,” Olivia spoke apologetically, “I shouldn’t have teased you. Here, I’ll help you sit up and then go get your meds.”

Gritting my teeth as she helped me sit up, I bit back another moan of pain as she quickly got up and ran to the kitchen. She was back in a minute, holding out two pills and a glass of water that I gratefully accepted.

“How long was I out?” I asked hoarsely, voice still thick with sleep.

“Five hours,” she answered, and my eyes widened as I gave her a startled look.

“Please don’t tell me I’ve been lying on your lap that entire time?” I begged, and she gave a short shake of her head as she sipped from a glass of wine she’d brought back with my pills.

“No, I took a break to make dinner and make some calls,” she replied, and I didn’t find that answer satisfying.

“Liv,” I sighed unhappily, and she shot down whatever else I was going to say with a sharp look.

“I was happy to help, and I don’t want to hear any more complaints, or I’ll feel offended,” she declared, a challenging look in her eyes. “What I’ll accept is a thank you and you joining me for dinner.”

I couldn’t fight back a smile as I told her, “Thank you, and I’d love to join you for dinner.”

Her returning smile was beautiful as she led the way to my kitchen.

“Is this going to be edible?” I asked jokingly. “I haven’t forgotten your attempt at making”—

“Don’t!” she shouted, putting a finger onto my lips. I barely resisted the childish urge to lick it.

“Don’t even, Rafael Barba,” she warned, “or there’ll be no dessert for you.”

“Mmm, dessert?” I queried with suggestive eyebrows, enjoying our old back and forth bantering that always seemed to toe the line with flirting.

“Exactly,” she responded with a wink as she pulled a pizza box out of my oven.

I burst out into raucous laughter, leaning on the counter to hold myself up.

“No wonder you looked so confident,” I laughed, before groaning in pain. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts too much.”

“Don’t know why a box of pizza would be so amusing,” she huffed, the glint in her eyes showing me she wasn’t upset.

We didn’t bother with seats or plates, simply grabbing slices straight from the box as we ate. I had my hand slapped away when I attempted to steal some of her wine, so I shot her a wounded look.

“You’ve already had enough alcohol in your system,” she scolded, and I rolled my eyes.

Dinner was light and pleasant, Olivia not touching upon anything that had happened prior to me waking up. Easy conversation and smiles were exchanged, and I could almost pretend things were normal if it weren’t for the ever-present pain I was in.

“Shouldn’t you be headed home to Noah?” I asked as I finished my last bite.

“Is that another not so subtle way of asking me to leave like the last time I was here?” she asked blandly, and I smiled apologetically, recalling how I’d rudely kicked her out the last time she was here.

“No, but I know you don’t get enough time with him as it is, so I figured I’d let you know that it was okay for you to leave,” I stated. “I’m okay now.”

“Maybe at this moment, but after what I saw earlier, I’d prefer not to leave you alone,” she replied seriously, and I flushed, wondering what she saw. I remembered what I’d said and how I’d broken down into tears, but I wasn’t sure what site I’d presented.

She had seen me in my blanket cocoon, a habit I’d gotten into as a child to protect and shield myself from the world. In that cocoon, I was the only one there. Nothing and no one could hurt me. It was such a childish notion, but one I’d never managed to shake. It was only in my worst moments that I fell back on the old habit. Until today, only _Mami_ and Rita had seen me in that state.

I wondered what she’d thought. She’d seen me at my most vulnerable and broken.

She hadn’t run, though. She was still here, and she didn’t look disgusted, disturbed, or disappointed.

“Lucy should be here with Noah and dessert soon,” Olivia informed me. “We’ll be staying tonight, and maybe more if you’ll have us.”

“He—you—wait, what?” I stammered in shock.

“Noah and I will be spending the night here,” she told me. “I don’t want to leave you alone, and I think seeing Noah will do you both some good.”

I said nothing, mind simply trying to comprehend that she’d be staying here in my house. She’d never spent the night before.

Olivia’s eyes searched my face, and her previous confidence turned to doubt as she rushed to say, “I’m sorry, Rafa, I shouldn’t have just assumed we could stay. I just don’t think you should”—

“It’s okay,” I quickly interjected, reaching out a hand to grab onto her forearm. “You and Noah are always welcome in my home. You never need to ask or have a reason why,” I declared genuinely. “I was just surprised.”

Olivia’s responding smile was so beautiful it was downright radiant. I remembered calling her beautiful earlier, and how she’d responded that I was too. I wondered what she’d thought when I’d called her that.

A light knock followed by several fast and loud knocks were heard from my door, and I went over to open it.

“Uncle Rafa!” Noah hollered so loudly I was sure the entire hallway heard as he threw his arms around my waist.

“ _Mi amiguito_!” I yelled back just as enthusiastically pulling the boy up and swinging him around.

He laughed delightfully, his childish delight better than any medicine a doctor could prescribe.

“Your hairs all crazy,” he commented while I held him, one of his little hands reaching up to poke at my hair.

“Uh, yeah, I had a long nap,” I replied, my own hand reaching up to attempt and flatten it down.

“Naps are boorriinngg,” the boy complained.

“Well, I’m still sick, so naps help me heal,” I responded, and he gave me a serious nod.

His small hands were on my face now, his blue eyes peering into my green. God, there was so much innocence in those eyes. So much love.

Leaning closer, he placed a kiss on my forehead before saying, “I hope you feel better soon.”

“ _Gracias_ , Noah,” I said, giving him a kiss to his forehead before setting him down.

“Your mommy tells me you’re going to spend the night,” I mentioned, and his eyes and smile were bright as he nodded.

“We’re having a sleepover,” he declared excitedly, opening up his backpack and pulling out legos, a couple DVDs, and Eddie. “This is gonna be so much fun, Uncle Rafa. We’re going to play Legos, watch movies, make ice cream sundaes, and”—

“Noah, sweetheart, did you remember that Uncle Rafas not feeling well?” Liv interrupted gently yet firmly. “We’re here to keep him company, not tire him out.”

“Oh, I just wanted Uncle Rafa to know that we could if he wanted to,” Noah defended smartly, and I smirked as I ruffled his hair.

“Thank you to the both of you for the company and concern,” I spoke. “I think dessert, some lego playing, and a movie would be great. Tiring me out is a good idea since your mommy let me nap for sooo long,”

Noah gave a shout of happiness as he rushed off to the kitchen, babbling about how they’d brought all the supplies for sundaes. I shared a smile with Olivia, whose expression was one of fond exasperation as we followed after the rambunctious kindergartener.

We created and ate our sundaes, Olivia offering to clean up while Noah and I began to build one of his newer Lego sets. It was a complex set, but both Noah and I decided that no directions were needed. It took only fifteen minutes for us to regret that decision.

“Hmm, maybe we were too hasty in not using directions. How about we take a look for some ideas,” I suggested after seeing the youngster’s frustrated expression. He gladly agreed.

I put Noah in charge, giving only slight guidance when he seemed stuck. We were about halfway done with the masterpiece when Olivia loudly clapped her hands, garnering both our attention.

“Okay, boys, I believe playtime is over. Legos away and then bath time and PJs. Then and only then will we watch a movie,” Olivia announced, and Noah let out a heavy sigh that I accentuated with an exaggerated groan.

We both cleaned up and Olivia began leading him to my guest bedroom when she turned to me with an arched eyebrow.

“Bath time and PJs for you too,” she ordered with a smirk.

“Will you help wash my hair like you do Noah’s?” I asked flirtatiously, and I could’ve sworn she blushed.

“Do you need Mommy’s help because your sick?” Noah questioned innocently before looking at Olivia. “I can bathe myself if Uncle Rafa needs your help.”

“ _Aye, no, amigo_ , it’s fine,” I quickly stated. “I was just teasing.”

The boy gave a cute laugh although he didn’t understand the joke.

Ignoring Liv’s narrowed eyes, I walked them both down the hallway, instructing them where towels and extra blankets were, if needed.

Walking into my bedroom, I settled for a quick rinse rather than a bath, having showered only that morning. Moving to the living room, I settled myself down to wait for Liv and Noah to return.

I turned my phone on, groaning at the multitude of texts, missed phone calls, and voicemails I’d missed. I didn’t even want to imagine the number of emails that I hadn’t responded to.

Scanning through missed texts, calls, and voicemails, I ignored all those from friends, focusing just on work. Thinking of friends, I realized I needed to apologize to the SVU squad for what I’d said. A phone call wouldn’t do, and even less a text. I had to do it in person.

The quick patter of feet moved down my hallway and towards me.

“Wow, Uncle Rafa, you were real quick!” the boy panted, his curls still soaking, pajamas sticking to him as he hadn’t quite dried off.

“Noah!” Liv scolded, “Don’t run through here like you’re in a playground, and especially not when you’re still wet. Come here so I can finish drying you off,” she called, the _niño_ sighing as he trudged back towards his mother. I grinned at his put-upon expression, making funny faces when he looked over at me, which sent him into a fit of giggles.

“What movie are we going to watch?” I asked once Noah had finished drying off. He looked through the handful he’d brought and laid them out, telling me to choose. I looked over the selection, seeing all of Noah’s favorites.

“Good choices, _amigo_ ,” I complimented before settling on Lilo and Stitch, a good comedy. I wasn’t ready for the emotional battles Moana or Coco would put me through.

Once the movie was in, I settled myself on the couch, Noah on one side and Liv on the other. It was our usual sitting arrangement when we’d watch movies. I grabbed the comforter I’d been wrapped in from earlier and settled it over all our laps. Noah cuddled into my side while Liv sat close enough our arms and legs touched. It was a familiar and comforting scene we’d been through multiple times, and it never failed to warm my heart.

Things weren’t perfect. Nothing had been fixed or even decided upon. Would I testify? I didn’t know. Hadn’t thought about it since this morning.

 _However_ , since breaking down in Olivia’s arms, I had started to feel lighter, more positive. Things could be better. Things _would_ be better.

Sitting here now with two of my favorite people on earth, I suddenly understood what Olivia meant when she said family isn’t always who you’re related to. Here she was with Noah, who was her son in every sense of the word, except they shared no blood. That didn’t make their love for each other any less powerful or meaningful.

The movie finished and Noah was put to bed after cajoling two stories from me. I returned to the living room to see Olivia seated. She patted the spot next to her, and I sat myself down on her right side, which allowed me to grip her right hand in my left.

“Did I scare you earlier?” I asked curiously.

“Worried,” she corrected, turning her body towards me while pulling her legs up on the couch. “I knew you were struggling, but didn’t know it’d gotten…,” she’d trailed off.

“Bad,” I supplied, quirking my lip into a brief, small smile. She gave a single, serious nod, her hand squeezing mine.

“It hurt to see you like that,” she stated, and I opened my mouth to apologize, but she held up a silencing hand.

“I don’t want or need an apology,” she insisted, eyes soft and warm. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to offer you some comfort since all this began. I could see that you were hurting, _suffering_ , and it killed me that I couldn’t help you. I know you fear appearing weak, but it’s not weak to ask for help. It’s not weak to feel hurt by Lucia’s rejection, fury at Manuel’s actions, and guilt for not being the son they expect you to be.”

I swallowed back a lump of emotion as her words hit right at home.

“I shouldn’t be like this,” I argued weakly.

“Says who?” she retorted immediately

“I didn’t even fight back, Liv,” I admitted in a tone full of shame as I looked down at my knees. “I threw the first punch like an idiot, and then with a single look he had me cowering _como un niñito de diez años_. All I felt was terror, and all I could think about was that I needed to keep my mouth shut, get away and hide,” I choked out, emotions beginning to get the better of me again.

“What does that make me?” I asked bitterly, turning to look into Olivia’s sympathetic, caring face.

“Human,” she answered simply to which I frowned.

“An abuse victim,” she amended, and this time I grimaced.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she said firmly, gently pulling my chin so that I was looking at her. “There’s nothing wrong with how you reacted. I understand you’re embarrassed and upset with yourself, but you were put back in a situation you hadn’t been in since you were a child—your body reacted instinctively.”

“It _shouldn’t_ have,” I argued.

“Whether it should or shouldn’t have doesn’t matter,” she refuted. “You did what you needed to, to survive. What do you think would’ve happened if you’d fought back?” she asked curiously.

“I’d feel better about myself,” I grumbled irritably, but when she raised an eyebrow, I considered the question. What would have happened?

“I’d still have lost the fight,” I eventually answered. “He’s still bigger than me, and I’ve never been a fighter. That was always…,” I trailed off uncomfortably, thoughts darkening as I remembered my lost friendships. Olivia clearly sensed the direction of my thoughts for she scooted closer, using her body to offer comfort. 

“I’ve worked all my life to get away from Manuel and who I was around him—a scared little boy,” I informed her. “I thought I’d succeeded. No one who knows me now would call me weak or scared. I’m an intelligent, well respected ADA who takes shit from _nobody_. My nickname was _El Tiburón,_ ” I expressed with a laugh before quickly sobering.

“No one will ever see me that way again,” I continued darkly. “They’ll just see the cowering man who was beaten bloody by his father. How can I”—

“You were hurt by your daddy?” a young voice asked in outrage, startling both Olivia and me.

“Noah, what’re you doing up?” Olivia asked, quickly rushing over to the boy.

“I left Eddie,” he explained with a pout before looking back to me with sadness, concern, disbelief, and confusion.

“It was your daddy that hurt you?” he pressed incredulously, and I was happy that the thought of a parent harming their child was so foreign to him. I never would’ve wanted to be the one to shatter that illusion.

 _“Ven aquí, amigo_ ,” I called kindly, holding out an arm. He eagerly made his way over, settling himself on my lap comfortably, my arms wrapped around him securely. His eyes held so much innocence as he waited for my response.

I looked at Olivia, my eyes questioning. I wouldn’t answer him honestly if she didn’t want me to. Her returning gaze was apologetic, and I knew she simply didn’t want to cause me distress. She’d interfere if I wanted her to.

Looking back down at Noah, I nodded my head as I quietly admitted, “Yes, it was my _papi_ that hurt me.”

His blue eyes were wide with horror and confusion as he asked, “ _Why?_ ”

I had to bite my cheek to stop the automatic reply that _I’d_ done something wrong. I didn’t need him to think he could ever do something that’d make a beating seem acceptable. I had to think hard to figure out a proper response, startled at how difficult it was for me to come up with a response that didn’t put me at fault.

“He’s not a good man,” I settled on, unsure of how to explain that he’d always been this way and I had no idea why.

“I don’t understand, Uncle Rafa,” Noah responded with mounting confusion. “Did you do something wrong?”

“Absolutely not,” Liv snapped, face immediately softening at her son’s startled expression. She came over, kneeling in front of Noah and I as she said in a gentler voice, “Your uncle did absolutely _nothing_ wrong, and even if he had, his father should _never_ have hurt him. It was very wrong of him.”

“Then, why did he do it? Aren’t daddies supposed to be nice? Aren’t they supposed to protect their sons?” he pushed, tears in his eyes as he craved to understand how a parent could harm their own child.

“It’s like Uncle Rafa told you, sweet boy,” Liv explained, “his daddy is a bad man who hurt your uncle because he was angry.”

Mild understanding appeared on Noah’s expression, confusion turning to sadness as he looked up at me once more.

“Was this the first time?” he inquired, and I was unhappy to see he already knew the answer.

I was still hesitant to answer honestly, so I looked to his mother for guidance and permission. Her eyes were as sad as her son as she gave a curt nod.

“ _Chico_ ,” I began seriously, making sure he was looking me in the eyes, “my _papi_ has never been good to me, even when I was a kid. He’s never loved or even liked me, and because he’s such an angry person, he hurt me whenever he wanted. It’s been a long, _long_ time since he’d done it, though. This,” I gestured to my current injuries, “is the first time he’s hurt me in twenty years.”

A few tears began to fall down his young cheeks, and it broke my heart that I was the cause of this sadness. It also touched my heart, though, that my pain hurt him so much.

“What about your mommy? Didn’t she protect you?” he questioned, desperate to for some good in my life.

The lump in my throat was back, thoughts of _Mami_ being like a stab in the heart.

“She did the best she could to protect me,” I spoke honestly, relief flooding Noah’s eyes.

“You’re the best, Uncle Rafa, and it was wrong of your daddy to hurt you. I’m so sorry he did that,” Noah stated before wrapping his arms around me as tightly as he could. His hug was almost painful because of the bruising, but I barely felt it as I was simply touched by how much this little boy cared. Holding him in my arms, I settled my head on top of his, vowing to never let anything happen to him. This boy would know nothing but love from the adults in his life. He’d never fear insults or fists.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you back to bed,” Olivia announced, attempting and failing to pull her son from me as he was gripping my shirt tightly.

“I’ve got him,” I asserted, lifting the still tearful child up with me. I carried him back to the guest room, settling us both on the bed.

“Do you want me to read another story to yours?” I asked, and he shook his head plastering his face against my chest, one of his tiny fists holding onto my shirt. Suffice to say, I wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, and I was totally fine with that. As I rubbed his back, neither one of us spoke, each of us just offering the other comfort.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, his breathing evening out, his hand falling from my shirt. Olivia stood at the doorway, watching us both with a tender expression. She walked over, placed a kiss on Noah’s forehead, smoothing his hair back.

“Where’s my kiss?” I whispered, half-joking, and the amusement left me at the smoldering look in her eyes as she leaned closer.

Holy shit.

She stopped close enough so that our noses were almost touching. I could smell her shampoo and even her toothpaste as she breathed. We looked at each other, the same question in each of our eyes: Are you sure about this? Is this what you really want?

Yes, it’s what I want. It’s what I really, really want.

Closing the short distance, I lay a single, soft kiss on her lips pulling away enough to check that it was okay. It clearly was, for she was the one to close the distance, her lips crushing mine, her hands gripping onto my shirt the same way her sons had earlier.

It was sweet, it was blissful, and _por Dios_ , this was _not_ the place, I thought, heart pounding as I recalled we had a sleeping child between us. She realized as well, for she quickly helped me rearrange the boy more comfortably before nearly yanking me out of the bed.

We were in each other’s arms, lips on each other the second we had the door close. I placed my hands on her hips pulling her close as she put both her hands on the side of my face keeping me close. Her mouth opened, and I immediately began exploring it with my tongue, loving the feel of her hands on my face and hair.

We eventually broke apart, both breathing heavily as our foreheads lean against each other.

“So that just happened,” I murmured with a smile, and Olivia laughed, pulling her head away.

“You asked for a kiss,” she remarked with a smirk, and I was the one to laugh this time as I nodded.

“We should talk about this?” I asked rather than state, and she made a noise of agreement as she played with the hair at the nape of my neck.

“We should, but not tonight,” she responded tiredly. “Honestly, I just want to sleep.”

“Yeah, okay,” I replied, reluctantly releasing my hold on her.

She gave me one last kiss on the lips before wishing me a good night and entering back into the guest room.

I headed to my own room in somewhat of a daze, still marveling at what just happened.

I’d kissed her. She’d kissed me.

Holy _shit_.

I loved Olivia. I had for a long time, and while I’d imagined and maybe even hoped for our relationship to move on to the next level, I’d never actually thought it would.

I got into bed, and unlike every other time I’d gone to bed these past few weeks, tonight I fell asleep with a smile.


	11. Guts

**Chapter 11: Guts**

“Uncle Rafa,” a young voice whispered loudly into my ear, poking my cheek.

“Pssst, Uncle Rafa, are you awake?” the same voice whispered, and I smiled as I opened my eyes.

“I am now,” I told the wide-awake five-year-old.

“Yes!” he hollered, beginning to pull on my uninjured hand.

“Let’s make pancakes or breakfast! I’m starving and Mommys still asleep and snoring,” he spoke with far too much energy for whatever hour of the morning it was. Laughing, I got to my feet with a mild groan.

_Mierda_. I’d forgotten how long it took for bruises to heal, especially bruised ribs and a banged-up head.

Entering my kitchen, my excitable young friend was impatiently waiting for me to grab necessary pancake supplies.

“Chocolate chips, blue berries, or plain?” I asked, smiling at his joyous proclamation of chocolate chips.

“Well come on, little chef, you’re gonna have to do most of the work because of my busted arm,” I informed him, ready to jump in if he needed help.

By the time Olivia wandered in, there were already a stack of ready-to-eat pancakes which I set Noah in front of with a newly opened bottle of syrup. The amount of sugar on that plate was phenomenal, so I graced Olivia with a look that was both apologetic and teasing. Whatever smart mouth remark I had planned became stuck in my throat when I caught a look at Olivia’s pajamas.

She was in shorts…like _short_ shorts. Shorts that accentuated her long, well-toned legs.

_Aye, mamasíta_ , I thought with growing appreciation.

A loud clearing of her throat pulled my eyes back towards Olivia, where she gave me a pointed look informing me that she clearly knew that I’d been staring.

I simply smirked unabashedly.

“Why are you guys looking at each other weirdly?” Noah asked curiously, looking between his mother and me in confusion.

Identical blushes adorned our faces at being caught ogling each other like teenagers, but I still sported a smirk as I allowed Liv to explain our weirdness to her son.

I helped myself to my own plate of pancakes as she explained to Noah that we were remembering a joke from the night before, and that no, she wouldn’t tell the joke as it wouldn’t be funny anymore. Noah was thankfully young enough to lose interest before digging back into his sugary breakfast.

Once breakfast ended, we parted ways to get ready for the day. I’d let Olivia know that I’d go to work with her today. I needed to apologize to the squad and if I felt up to it, perhaps I’d seek out Isaiah Holmes to discuss my father’s charges once more.

Lucy stopped by to pick Noah up, and after bidding the boy a good day, Olivia walked over and looped her arms around my neck.

“You look better than yesterday,” she remarked, and I gave a small smile before leaning in to give her a light kiss.

“Your fault,” I blamed, giving a line of kiss from her lips down her neck and to her shoulder. “How dare you care so much about me, Olivia Benson. How dare you break into my home.”

We both chuckled as she released her hold on me.

“You sure you want to come in with me?” she asked quietly.

“I owe everybody an apology,” I told her. “By the way, I’m sorry for being such an ass yesterday, and for worrying you.”

“It’s fine,” she replied dismissively, and I shook my head negatively.

“We’re laughing now, but you wouldn’t have convinced the building supe to let you in if you hadn’t been really concerned about me,” I stated seriously. “I was drowning, and you pulled me out of the deep end.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she responded. “That’s what family is for too, and you’ve been family for years now, Rafa,” she informed me. “Whatever is happening or happens between us, I will always love you and consider you my family.”

She’d said it before, but this time it seemed to hit me harder and stronger. The emotions her words evoked were powerful, and they brought tears to my eyes. Stupid tears that seemed always so eager to appear and ruin me. My previous tough guy image was completely ruined, but…but this was Olivia, and I didn’t need to have a façade with her. I didn’t need to pretend or hide who I was or what I was feeling.

“I love you,” I expressed tenderly. “I’ve loved you for so long, you’ve known that, but even though I thought it impossible, that love has grown even more recently. You’re my best friend, Liv, the best friend I’ve ever had, and I can’t imagine losing you. Please. _Please_ ,” I pleaded vehemently, holding her close, “don’t let me screw this up. Don’t let my pride, arrogance, or sheer pig-headedness ruin this.”

Her responding expression was soft and endearing as she lightly caressed the side of my face.

“I love you too, Rafa, more than I’ve ever loved any other man in my life. I think we’ve both been so afraid to do this because we haven’t wanted to ruin our friendship. Your friendship has meant the world to me. You’ve helped me through the worst moments of my life, and you’ve been there to celebrate my best moments as well. I want you for every moment of my life, and I promise I won’t let you screw this up, if you make the same promise back to me,” she stated.

I smiled widely, thrilled to hear she not only understood my feelings but felt the same way.

“I promise,” I vowed softly and solemnly before pulling her in for a deep kiss she readily returned.

She broke away first, mumbling about how she couldn’t be late, and I groaned while reluctantly agreeing.

As she was driving us to work, my thoughts turned towards all my problems that hadn’t gone away. However, unlike yesterday, where all had seemed bleak and insurmountable, today there was a bit of light and hope. There was an end to this, and I would not only survive it, but come out the better.

“You think the others will forgive me?” I voiced nervously as we were parking.

“Of course, they will,” she answered immediately with a roll of her eyes. I was emboldened by her confidence.

Still, though, I was deeply embarrassed. I didn’t lose my temper. I prided myself on keeping my cool but had shown none of that restraint yesterday. The team had seen me more vulnerable than I’d ever wanted them to, and I had to convince myself that, that wasn’t a bad thing. It’d all be okay. It’d all turn out fine.

It was as we were in the elevator that a thought occurred to me.

“Liv, are we going to keep, uh, whatever we’re doing secret or…,” I trailed off awkwardly.

She was smiling with amusement as she replied, “Maybe let’s keep it to ourselves until we can call it more than just, whatever we’re doing”.

I smiled back sheepishly as I gave my agreement.

The elevator doors opened, and both our faces were immediately masked by professionalism as we stepped out together. I fought back all signs of nervousness as we entered the squad room, especially when Fin’s, Carisi’s, and Rollins’s eyes landed on us. Approaching them, I allowed my expression to turn apologetic.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

“You gonna yell at us again?” Fin asked back dryly.

“I actually plan on apologizing, but if you really want me to do it out here in front of everyone, I’ll take that as punishment for my abhorrent behavior yesterday,” I remarked, desperately hoping they’d allow me some privacy.

Fin’s expression was blank as he crossed his arms, and I withheld a disappointed sigh before turning to the younger, kinder detectives.

Rollins was looking at Fin with amusement before turning back to me with a sympathetic expression. Carisi, as expected appeared the most sympathetic, and I felt a rush of affection for how forgiving the younger man was. I knew I pushed him and could be downright abrasive at times, but it never slowed him down or pushed him away. I doubted he would appreciate the comparison, but he reminded me very much of an eager golden retriever puppy with how happy he was to help and please.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you all yesterday,” I decided to say, swallowing my pride and resolutely ignoring anyone around us who may have been eavesdropping. Hopefully, they had better things to do than to watch the cocky jackass Barba be humbled.

“No worries, Barba,” Carisi instantly replied with an easy grin. “I’d have lost my temper ages ago if I were in your position.”

“Same,” Rollins spoke up, her smile kind.

Looking back to Fin, I noticed him sporting a small grin. “Just say the word and I’ll go and kick the old bastard’s ass,” he remarked, eliciting a shocked laugh from me.

“You are an NYPD sergeant,” Liv scolded Fin exasperatedly, although I could see the humor in her eyes.

“Not when family is involved,” he replied, and for the second time today I found myself almost moved to tears. These people really needed to stop saying such kind, thoughtful things before I turned into a weeping mess.

“Look, so I’m going to head out, but before I do, I wanted to invite you guys over to my place for dinner tonight,” I announced spontaneously, doing my best to appear my normal aloof self.

Four sets of eyes looked at me in surprise, and I resisted the urge to fidget, blush, or glare.

“Could you guys quit looking at me like I just admitted to being a ballerina or something,” I stated blandly. “Jesus, is it really that strange that I’m offering to cook you all dinner?”

“No, it’s just, um, can I bring Jessie?” Amanda stammered, and I nodded my head.

“Awesome!” Carisi exclaimed happily. “Should we bring anything?”

“No, I’ve got food and booze, so we should be good,” I responded, feeling the beginnings of some excitement.

“Does 7 sound good?” I then asked, not knowing how hectic their schedule was now.

“Sure, I’m always up for free food,” Fin remarked, giving me a smile before moving away to do some work. 

Olivia walked me out, nearly beaming with pride.

“It’s just a dinner,” I defended, embarrassed by how pleased everyone seemed by my invitation.

“Maybe because you’ve never invited anyone over to your house besides me,” she spoke with a smile. “In fact, you’ve never really invited any of them anywhere.”

Brow furrowing, I had to ask, “Then why do they consider me friends?”

“It’s your stunning personality and dashing good looks,” she asserted, and I rolled my eyes as I entered the elevator.

“Text me if you guys can’t make it,” I said before the doors closed.

I headed to my building, intent to check in with Buchanan to see what was going on with Manuel’s case. As I walked through the building, I ignored the curious looks and whispers that followed me. A few brave souls called out a greeting that I briefly acknowledged, but none thankfully asked to speak. It wasn’t until I reached the area where all the defense attorneys’ offices were that I was forced to engage in actual conversation.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” a familiar voice drawled, and I groaned internally as I stopped outside Rita’s office, where she stood in the doorway.

“Were you really going to walk by without saying hello?” she pressed, stepping into her office, clearly intending for me to follow her in. “ _Especially_ after the text I received from you yesterday that you were not a danger to yourself?” she added in a displeased whisper, closing the door behind her louder than I thought was necessary. Why did I feel like I was about to get yelled at?

Rita brushed past me, leaned against the front of her desk and crossed her arms as she gave me a stern look. Yup, I’m about to get yelled at.

“I’m getting flashbacks to the principal’s office,” I had to joke, sighing when her lips just pressed together tightly.

Looking into the eyes of my oldest friend, I was able to see past the anger and to the concern and fear. I’d really worried her.

“I had a bad day yesterday, and I’m sorry for worrying you,” I apologized genuinely. “Hindsight being 20/20, that text was probably more concerning than reassuring.”

“You think?” she snapped rhetorically, her hands gripping her desk tightly. “I was literally standing outside your building ready to drag you out kicking and screaming if I had to when I ran into Olivia. She swore to take care of you, but even then, I _still_ waited outside for hours until she called me to let me know you were going to be okay.”

I guiltily dropped my eyes on the floor, feeling very much like a scolded puppy.

Rita gave a harsh sigh before speaking again, her voice and tone calmer and softer than before.

“Just because I’m an asshole to you doesn’t mean I ever stopped caring,” she told me simply. “I know we’re not as close as we used to be, but I need you to know that I’m here if you ever need me; and, please do reach out because as unfeeling as I may seem, I do have a heart and it breaks when I see you hurt. Christ, you’re like the little brother I never wanted…,” she trailed off with a huff.

Although I was sure my face was red with embarrassment, that didn’t stop the rush of appreciation and affection I felt for Rita. I’d always known she cared as her actions had proven so time and time again, but in this past week she’d been more verbal about her feelings towards me than ever before. It was awkward but also nice. I needed these reassurances more than ever right now, I was realizing.

“I swear to god, Rafael, will you please stop looking like a kicked puppy?” she pleaded exasperatedly, a big of her regular personality shining through.

I lifted my eyes, offering her a hesitant smile as I once more repeated, “I’m sorry.”

She narrowed her eyes before beckoning me with a crook of her finger. Confused, I hesitated a few seconds before walking closer.

Was she going to smack me? I supposed I deserved it for the concern I’d put her through.

Or did she just want to see more closely how I was doing physically? Emotionally?

I stopped less than a foot away, giving her a look torn between curiosity and wariness. She stared right back stonily, eyes searching my face for something. After mere moments, her expression softened back to one of both fondness and exasperation when she pulled me in for a hug.

A complete hug with like two arms.

I couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged me like this. Maybe when I graduated from Harvard?

While I was caught off guard, though, I couldn’t help but quickly relax, relishing in the comfort as I hugged her back. _Por Dios_ , I was like a dry sponge with how much I suddenly craved comfort.

The hug didn’t last long, but it was enough for now.

We broke apart, both ignoring the light sheen in the others’ eyes.

I forced myself to speak before the moment passed. “I’ve always appreciated your friendship, more than you could ever know. You saved my life all those years ago, and I will never be able to thank you enough for that. I really am sorry for how much I’ve worried you, but I’m starting to get better. Still a lot of shit going on in this head of mine, but I’m realizing that I don’t have to deal with it all on my own.”

“Took you long enough,” Rita replied giving a loud sniff as she turned away from me.

“Well, you better get a move on,” she directed, back still towards me. “If you’re here for Buchanan, he leaves for lunch soon, and no one gets between John and his lunch,” she joked.

I smiled, bidding her goodbye before walking out. Buchanan’s office wasn’t far from Rita’s, so it took only a minute to arrive. As he wasn’t expecting me, I allowed his secretary to inform him. She gave me the same curious yet concerned look most people had, and I ignored the question in her eyes.

“Mr. Buchanan says you can go right in,” the secretary informed me, and I graced her with a smile before entering his office and closing the door behind me.

Buchanan was sitting behind his desk, and when he saw me, he gestured for me to sit across from him. After I sat, he looked me over, taking in the evidence of my injuries.

“I’m sure you heard there’s been a mistrial,” he began, and I nodded my head glad that he wasn’t asking me how I was doing or feeling. “Holmes is going to retry this, and I’ll continue representing your, uh, Manuel,” he informed me, stumbling as he stopped himself from referring to Manuel as my father.

“In regard to the assault charges, I won’t be Manuel’s defense attorney,” he then stated, and I nodded once more.

“Is there something you wanted to discuss specifically?” Buchanan asked after I’d said nothing.

“I’ll pay you for what you’ve done, John, but I won’t for this new trial,” I told him, and Buchanan’s expression was unsurprised as he leaned forward.

“I wouldn’t either if I were in your position, but I’m going to keep the case and do it _pro bono_ ,” he retorted causing me to frown. “Everyone is entitled to a defense, and while I won’t argue that he never assaulted you, that doesn’t mean he committed the rape.”

Unhappy yet unsurprised, I stood up as there was nothing more to say.

“Obviously, I disagree, but know that I’ll be there to testify against him again, and I promise you he _will_ be found guilty,” I asserted before leaving.

Well, I guess I’m testifying. I hadn’t meant to say that, but the mere thought of Manuel being found not guilty for the rape appalled me so badly, I’d instantly vowed I wouldn’t let it happen.

In fact, fuck it. I was going to nail the bastard for the assault as well. No more being a coward. No more taking his abuse lying down. The man had broken the law, and I would make sure he paid for it.

With these thoughts in mind, I hunted down Holmes next, informing him of my intentions.

“I figured you’d agree,” he remarked with a satisfied smile. “You didn’t strike me as the type to roll over.”

“The assault charges are going through. With your statement and all the witnesses, Manuel won’t be able to get away with what happened,” I was informed. “As for the rape charge, the case is even stronger now because of the assault.”

“It’s heresy,” I had to argue. “I can say why Manuel beat me, but there were no witnesses in that bathroom.”

“Won’t matter,” Holmes countered confidently. “Manuel attacked you right after you gave testimony against him. Any juror will be able to see the cause and effect here. He’s done for.”

I completely agreed, but I didn’t want to get overconfident. When it came to luck, Manuel had an overabundance of it. 

We spent the next hour going over more details and how to tweak my testimony. Holmes brought up how I had many friends in the DA office, and that the new trial had been put in the fast lane. Juror selection would take place in two weeks, which was shocking.

I headed out shortly afterwards, picking up groceries for tonight’s dinner before finally heading home. Walking in, I instantly knew I wasn’t alone, but before I could contemplate what to do, _Mami_ walked out of my kitchen. I’d forgotten that I’d given her a key shortly after moving here as I wanted her to feel welcome at any time. She’d never used it until today. In fact, this was her first time ever setting foot in my home.

“ _Hola, Mami_ ,” I acknowledged, walking towards and then past her into the kitchen. I began to empty the grocery bags, sorting supplies before considering how much to cook and how long it would take.

A mug of hot tea was set in front of me and I gave my thanks before taking a slow sip.

“Having guests?” _Mami_ asked curiously, clearly not wanting to start off on the wrong foot.

“ _Sí_ ,” I answered, not bothering to expand. Leaving my groceries, I walked to my table and sat down across from _Mami_.

Looking at her, my heart constricted at seeing how utterly miserable and spent she appeared. Dark bags were under her eyes, her face was pale, and she seemed shaky. Had she been eating or sleeping at all?

“Your home is very beautiful,” she commented, and I answered with a simple thank you.

Silence ensued. Uncomfortable silence where she looked around the kitchen before eventually looking back at me.

“ _Como estás, mijo?_ ” she asked concernedly, a hand reaching out towards my face. I moved my head out of the way, grabbing her hand gently and pushing it back towards her.

I saw the hurt shining in her eyes, and while I felt guilty, I knew she could see the hurt in my eyes just as easily as I saw hers. She could read me better than even Manuel, and I was more than ready to let her see what I was feeling and thinking.

“I’m fine,” I answered before outright asking, “What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” she told me, and I was desperate for that to be true, but knew it wasn’t. This was about Manuel.

“ _No voy a hacer nada_ to help Manuel _,”_ I declared firmly, deciding to be proactive. “He is being charged with a felony for what he did to me, and there will be another trial for the rape, and I’m letting you know now that I will be testifying once more.”

_Mami’s_ face went through a variety of expressions after I spoke such as anger, sadness, betrayal, hurt, and frustration.

“ _Cómo puedes_ —How can you do this to your own family?” she questioned, sounding truly confused. “To me?”

“I’m not doing anything to you, _Mami_ ,” I defended with forced calm. “I’m making sure Manuel pays for what he’s done. He’s broken the law,” I stated, and I knew she wasn’t listening as she shook her head and snapped back, “ _Es tu papá!_ You can’t even call him that anymore? Why are you suddenly turning against us? You never said anything growing up, and now you’re going to tell the world about what happened in our home?”

“He’s is my father only in blood,” I retorted stiffly, “and I am testifying because it is the right thing to do.”

“You have nothing to do with that rape case,” she asserted exasperatedly. “Why do you have to go up there and spread lies?”

“ _Lies?!_ ” I burst out incredulously. “What lies did I tell? That Manuel doesn’t like being told no? That he beat me? That he beat you? And _sí, tengo que testificar_ because _you_ _lied_ on the stand saying what a great man he was!”

“He is a great man!” she yelled back, slapping her hand down on my table. “He was hard on you, sometimes too hard, _pero_ he did it because he loved you and wanted you to be better.”

“It was never about being better,” I retorted hotly. “He smacked me around for _cosas tan ridícula_ like drinking too much milk, dressing like I was gay (whatever the fuck that means), and asking him questions. You knew his actions were wrong because you always promised to never hit me, and you made me swear not to tell anyone what happened because the cops would get involved and take me away from you. _Nunca me amó y nunca dejó de decirmelo_. You heard and saw what he did, and whenever you tried to interfere, you got smacked around also. You’re telling me that was right? Because we both know it wasn’t.”

_Mami’s_ hands were covering her ears as she shook her head back and forth.

“No, no, no, _no_! _Basta!_ Stop!” she shouted.

“ _Mami_ , _por favor_ , stop trying to protect him,” I pleaded. “He’s a bad man”—

“Not to me!” she interjected harshly, stray tears falling down her cheeks. “Manuel has been nothing but good to me! He gave me a home and a family. He gave me you, Rafi!”

I gritted my teeth tightly, frustrated with her inability to see the bad in her husband.

“And you see nothing wrong with what he did to me?” I pressed dibelievingly. “For what he did to me as a boy? For what he did a few days ago?”

“ _No hizo nada!_ It was discipline!” she shouted “As for what happened recently, he lost his temper, but only because of how hurt he was by what you’d said! All those lies!”

“They weren’t lies!” I immediately retorted as I stood to my feet in sudden anger. “That wasn’t discipline! Discipline doesn’t leave bruises, blood, or scars!” I roared, voice cracking with emotion.

“Don’t exaggerate,” she scoffed dismissively, and tears welled up in my eyes. She _couldn’t_ be serious? She’d tended to my wounds. How could she have forgotten?

“Exaggerate?” I asked weakly, quickly beginning to unbutton my shirt. Yanking it off I walked around the table until I stood before her.

“These are exaggerations?” I pressed firmly as I pointed out the handful of scars I had on my torso that could still be seen even with the ugly bruising. _Mami_ didn’t want to see so I called out her name.

“You know what caused these? Your dear, loving husband’s belt. Except this one, of course,” I mentioned, pointing to a scar at my shoulder. “This is from a beer bottle he smashed on me when I was twelve. _Todavía piensas que estoy exagerando?”_

 _Mami’s_ face was drenched in tears, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs as she looked me over.

Grabbing my shirt, I put it on just as quickly as I’d taken it off, turning my back on _Mami_.

“Rafi, _mijo_ ,” _Mami_ addressed tearfully, placing a hand on my shoulder. I tensed, moving away from her as I turned back around.

“What?” I whispered, suddenly feeling weary.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, and while I could tell she was being genuine, I couldn’t tell what she was sorry about.

“I’m sorry for what’s happened to you,” she continued, “but I can’t leave him. _Lo amo_.”

“And me?” I asked back brokenly, feeling as tears began to trail down my face. “Do you love me too?”

“Of course, I do, _papito,_ ” she assured me quickly, coming over and placing her two hands on the sides of my face. I allowed it, desperately searching her face for proof.

“ _But_ ,” I supplied, sensing there was more she wanted to say.

Several more tears cascaded down her cheeks as she slowly admitted, “But, he is my husband.”

“And you love him more,” I finished bitterly, pulling away from her hands before angrily swiping at the tears on my face.

“No, it’s not like that,” _Mami_ attempted to argue, but I was done talking. I was done listening.

“Please leave,” I whispered, but she simply shook her head and came closer.

“ _Leave_ ,” I ordered more adamantly, and when she continued to just stand there, I lost my temper and yelled, “ _Vete!_ Get out!”

_Mami_ looked both startled and hurt, but when I outright glared, she quickly left, my front door slamming behind her.

Leaning on the table, I scrunched my eyes closed, tears falling. I dropped my forehead onto the table, fighting the urge to scream and yell. She’d chosen her side, and it wasn’t me.

A sob escaped me, a sob I desperately tried to force down.

What was I going to do?


	12. Family

**Chapter 12: Family**

As I struggled to keep my tears at bay, I wondered what to do. My first thought was to simply curl into a ball of misery in my bed, but I knew that wouldn’t help anything. Besides, the SVU squad was due here for dinner, and I couldn’t be a mess like this when that happened.

I couldn’t get the tears to stop, though. I slid down to the ground, my back against the wall as I brought my knees up to my chest.

Not helping, not helping, not helping, I repeated like a mantra in my head.

I’m such a fucking mess, I thought self-deprecatingly, dropping my head to my knees. Could I be any more pitiful? Some mean words and I’m reduced to this?

Stupid!

I’m so stupid!

What the fuck was I thinking? Of course she’d choose him over me. When had she ever not? Why would today have been any different?

My phone began to ring, and I hastily wiped at my face when I saw it was Olivia calling. Was she going to cancel? Did they have a case?

I wondered how I’d feel about that. Would it be better to be alone now or not?

Experience told me no, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to be alone.

“Hey,” I answered, cringing at how rough my voice sounded.

“What’s wrong?” were the first words out of the lieutenant’s mouth, and I gave a watery chuckle at her immediate concern. We’d known each other almost six years, and she’d shown more concern and love for me in those years than my mother ever had.

“Nothing,” I automatically replied.

“Rafa, no,” she responded firmly, and I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me. Don’t make me talk. I don’t want you to hear me cry.

I took in a shuddering breath, hating myself as it was only more proof for her that I was crying.

“Rafa, honey, I need you to answer some questions for me, okay. Yes or no questions. Are you hurt?” she asked first.

“No,” I murmured.

“Okay, that’s good. Thank you. Are you at home?” she then inquired.

“Yes,” I answered in the same quiet tone as before.

“Alone?” she pressed.

“Yes,” I repeated.

“Do you need me to come over?” she questioned, and I knew if I said yes, she would leave what she was doing and come here. She was needed, though. She had a job and she’d already missed time because of me.

“No,” I replied untruthfully. My hand clawed at my chest as if it would ease the pain in my heart, and it was taking all my self-control to keep from outright sobbing.

“Are you saying no because you don’t want to bother me?” she immediately asked, and a whimper managed to escape me which caused me to clench my mouth shut.

Pathetic crybaby, I scolded myself harshly. Man the fuck up! I gripped my hair tightly urging myself to calm down, but I couldn’t. I was a mess again just like yesterday, falling apart at the seams.

Everything hurt, but it was my heart that hurt the most. Whatever hope I’d had of salvaging my relationship with _Mami_ was over, and that hurt more than any beating Manuel could give.

I heard Liv talking to someone briefly, her voice sounding tense before she spoke to me once more.

“Okay, Rafa, I can’t come over right now, but I’m sending Carisi over. He won’t push you to talk if you don’t want to, but I don’t want you alone, so please let him in,” she pleaded.

“M’kay,” I whispered tearfully, hating the thought of Carisi seeing me like this, but knowing that being alone wouldn’t help. I’d only spiral.

I heard the relief in Liv’s voice as she informed me that Carisi was already on his way and would be here in twenty minutes. That sounded like forever, but maybe it’d give me time to get myself under some semblance of control. No need to completely ruin my image with the younger detective.

“I have to go, just hold in there,” Liv urged before having to hang up.

I forced myself to my feet, unlocking my front door before moving into my living room and settling down on my couch. Grabbing the throw blanket I’d cocooned myself in yesterday I wrapped it around myself, leaving my head uncovered as I propped my feet up onto my coffee table.

I pulled the blanket tight, and as I fingered the loose threads I recalled that this had been a gift from my _Abuelita_. That brought a fresh round of tears from me as I missed her more than ever. Her unconditional love. Her lack of judgement. I could do no wrong in her eyes, and I was absolutely certain that she would’ve supported me throughout this entire mess. She wouldn’t have hesitated to admit her love for me. She wouldn’t have attempted to justify Manuel’s actions. She would’ve fought _Mami_ on my behalf.

She’s dead, though. She’s dead and it’s my fault. I killed the person who loved me most in this world.

I whimpered, body beginning to shake with suppressed sobs.

Calm down, calm down, calm down, I begged myself. You can’t be like this when Carisi gets here. You’ll freak him out. You’ll lose his respect.

Knocking at my door caused me to jump, and I hastily wiped at my face with the blanket. Taking in a shuddering breath, I barely managed to choke out, “It’s open!”

The door opened and closed, hesitant steps making their way inside.

“Barba?” Carisi called out, and I banged my foot on the coffee table loud enough to guide him here rather than speaking. I was afraid if I opened my mouth again I might let out an embarrassing cry or sob. My face was already warming as Carisi entered my living room, his curious eyes scanning the room before settling on me and instantly filling with worry.

I quickly averted my stare, too ashamed to maintain eye contact. Instead, I looked down at my lap, wondering whether having him here was a good idea after all. Being alone sucked, but I wasn’t sure I could handle the embarrassment of Carisi seeing me in this state.

“Hey, uh, the Lieutenant told me you were havin’ a rough time and that you could use some company,” the detective informed me, and I flicked my eyes to him briefly as I gave a nod of acknowledgment.

I could hear Carisi fidgeting, and I could only imagine how awkward and off kilter he felt. Neither one of us was the quiet sort and he’d never seen me like this, so I could only imagine how uncomfortable he must seem.

What was wrong with me? It wasn’t his job to help me feel better. 

Swallowing heavily, I told Carisi in a weak voice, “You don’t have to be here. I know you’re uncomfortable. Just go back to work. You’ve got more important things to do than babysit me.”

I heard Carisi walk towards me before asking, “You mind if I sit?”

I sighed as I gave a dismal nod. Why didn’t he just leave?

He sat down, leaving a two feet gap between us before kicking his own feet up on my coffee table. He let out his own sigh before speaking.

“Rafael,” he addressed, his tone both serious and kind, “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t, and there’s nothing more important to me than family, not even my job. Yeah, I’m a bit uncomfortable but only because I don’t know how to help you. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours. My family has got problems, sure, but it ain’t nothing on yours. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’d be like to-to…,” he trailed off with a shrug, not brave enough or comfortable enough to finish his statement so I finished it for him.

“You can’t imagine what it’d be like to be beaten by your father—to be hated by him. To have him humiliate and terrify you in front of all your coworkers even when you are an adult. You can’t imagine what it’d be like to have your mother turn against you, siding with your tormentor while adamantly denying there was every abuse. To have her blame you for everything that happened to you, as if you deserved the beatings,” I remarked, my voice turning more bitter and hurt the longer I spoke as the pain in my heart grew.

Tears began to fall, and I didn’t bother stopping them. There was no point. The emotional pain was just too great, and this was the only release I had.

“Yeah,” Carisi agreed in a rough voice, “I can’t imagine that. All I know is that seeing you so hurt like this kills me. Makes me want to kick the living shit outta your old man and maybe yell at your mom for abandoning her kid.”

“Not a kid,” I protested brokenly, and he let out a chuckle before asserting, “Don’t matter how old we get, we’re always gonna be our moms’ kids.”

“Don’t need her,” I then argued almost petulantly, and Carisi hummed before responding, “You’re right cuz you’ve got all of us now.”

Aww, now he did it. Sweet words like his only fueled my tears, and I pulled up a knee so that I could wrap an arm around and lean my head on it. My eyes were tightly closed, my body shaking with the effort I was putting into suppressing my sobs.

“Hey, hey, Barba, it’s okay to cry,” Carisi told me gently as he placed a steady hand on my shoulder. “Don’t try to hold it in, you’ll only make yourself sick, trust me; and don’t worry about me judging you or anything. I get we’re guys and people say we’re not supposed to cry, but that’s bullshit. Everybody cries, and it ain’t anything to be ashamed of.”

Bringing up my other knee, I pulled the blanket completely over my head as I stopped fighting back tears. I bit down on my cast to try and muffle the sounds I was making, but it didn’t really work. This only caused me further frustration, which triggered more crying.

I felt Carisi’s hand rubbing my shoulder in his best attempt to comfort me. He moved closer until he was right up next to me, and then simply remained silent, allowing his mere presence to soothe me. The feel of him against me was helpful as it was a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone.

I must’ve cried myself to sleep because the next thing I knew I was waking up to the sound of quiet chatter. Carisi was still here, and I recognized Olivia’s voice. Taking stock of my position, I noticed I was once more lying down on my couch, my head uncovered and resting comfortably on a pillow. This really was the most comfortable couch ever.

Opening my eyes, I allowed them to adjust to the dark as I slowly sat up. I pinpointed my guests’ position to my kitchen, and from the sounds I was hearing I assumed they were cooking.

_Mierda_.

I invited the squad over for dinner. What time was it? Looking around for my phone, I saw that it was already 6:24.

I rubbed at my gritty eyes, hating how they felt after I’d cried too much.

Getting to my feet, I kept the blanket around me as I silently made my way to the entryway of the kitchen. There, I watched Liv chopping up vegetables for a salad while Carisi was checking the oven before stirring a pot on the stove. I grinned weakly at seeing him wearing an apron I’d forgotten I even owned. It was black with white lettering that said, ‘I rub my meat for two minutes’ in big bold letters, ‘but enough about my grilling secrets’ underneath in smaller letters. Rita had given it to me years ago as a gag gift, and I’d worn it only once.

“Please feel free to take that awful apron with you, Carisi,” I commented, announcing my presence to the other two. Their amiable chatter stilled as they both turned towards me, identical looks of concern on their faces.

I resisted the urge to fidget and blush under their scrutiny, instead forcing myself to maintain eye contact.

Shuffling in, I sat myself on one of my bar stools, blanket still securely wrapped around me almost like a shield. Both detectives watched me carefully, so I decided to pretend the last few hours hadn’t happened and just act normal.

“Hey,” I greeted, “what’re you guys making?”

Sporting a smile, Carisi immediately explained the meal he was preparing for us all, and I found myself suitably impressed. He used what I’d bought at the store along with other ingredients he’d found to create something I’d never had. From what I was smelling, I had no doubt it would taste as deliciously as it sounded.

“Thanks for cooking, Carisi,” I told the blonde, “I feel guilty that I invited you to dinner only to have you end up cooking.”

“No problem, Counselor,” he replied cheerfully, “I love cooking.”

Carisi excused himself briefly to use the restroom at that point, which is when Olivia approached me, one of her hands going to my hair as her eyes sought out mine.

“How are you doing?” she asked, and I gave her a soft smile as I replied, “I’m okay. Better than before.”

She nodded, looking relieved, yet still concerned. Her eyes screamed that she wanted to know what happened, but she kept herself from asking. I responded nonetheless.

“ _Mami_ was here when I got home, and we had a talk,” I began, and she made a sympathetic noise as she sat down in the stool next to me.

“I informed her that there would be another trial against Manuel, that I would testify, and that I would also be filing assault charges against him,” I explained quietly, feeling more tired now rather than hurt. “She kept defending him and accusing me of lying and exaggerating. She couldn’t understand why I was making such a big deal of all this. I was so angry with her,” I admitted in a near whisper.

“She told me that the abuse I suffered was discipline, and when I told her that discipline didn’t leave scars, she accused me of exaggerating,” I spoke with renewed frustration. “I…I showed her my scars, and she just cried. She told me how she owed everything to Manuel and that she loved him. She said she loved me too, but that Manuel was her husband…I shouted at her to leave then, and you called shortly afterwards,” I recounted, feeling both exhausted and numb. The hurt was muted for the moment.

“I am so sorry, Rafa,” Olivia expressed, getting up and cradling my head in her arms, placing a kiss to the top of my brow.

A loud clearing of a throat was heard, and I snorted softly but didn’t bother pulling away from Liv.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but the pasta’ll burn if I don’t”— Carisi explained apologetically before being cut off by Olivia giving an amused, “It’s fine.”

Liv played with my hair while I heard Carisi move about my kitchen. As he worked, he began to regale us with stories from work and his family, entertaining and distracting me from dark thoughts. By the time knocks were heard on the door, I felt marginally better. Not as well as this morning, unfortunately, but well enough to deal with guests.

“Go and freshen up while I get the door,” Liv whispered, giving me one last kiss on the cheek before I got up and walked to my room. I was glad she’d suggested this as when I saw myself in the mirror, my hair was askew and my eyes red-rimmed. I groaned before turning the sink on to both wash my face and wet my hair. I managed to bring it under control, but unfortunately the redness in my eyes wasn’t something I could hide.

I sighed heavily before then deciding to change clothes as the ones I were wearing were rumpled. I settled on worn jeans and a pullover sweatshirt, uncaring of the others seeing me in such casual wear. There was no longer any point in pretending everything was alright. No point in using my expensive suits and smart mouth like a shield, at least not with these guys. Not with friends. Not with family.

I could already hear chatter and laughter as I walked down my hallway. Before I reached the kitchen, I saw both Noah and Jessie playing on the floor with action figures and barbies.

“Hey _chicos_ ,” I greeted with a smile, a smile that only widened with how happy both children seemed to see me.

“Uncle Rafa!” they both yelled before rushing over to hug me. I knelt to the ground, happily wrapping my arms around both youths, giving each a kiss on the head before releasing them.

They both attempted to cajole me into playing with them, but I declined. I was the host, and I knew the squad was here to see me.

Taking in a deep breath, I bravely made my way back to the kitchen, grinning sheepishly at the cheerful greetings. Rollins came over to hug me, Fin gave me a firm pat on the shoulder along with a smile while Carisi greeted me like he hadn’t just spent the last several hours here.

“Thanks for coming,” I told them appreciatively. “I’d like to say I cooked whatever smells so good, but that’s all Carisi.”

“He is an amazing cook,” Rollins asserted, and I smirked as I knew those two spent more time together than they’d want to admit.

“So, Barba, I honestly gotta say I would’ve bet money that you didn’t own a pair of jeans,” Fin commented humorously, garnering laughs from the others.

“Figured you’d be walking around in silk pajamas or something,” Rollins added teasingly, and I rolled my eyes.

“Well, then it’ll shock you to learn that I own shorts too,” I drawled, “ _and_ sandals.” Exaggerated gasps of shock were given causing me to roll my eyes again. I looked to Olivia then, noticing a hunger in her eyes as she eyed me up and down, and I just _knew_ she was imagining me in shorts. When we locked eyes, I smirked at the light blush that appeared on her cheeks.

Conversation was easy and pleasant the rest of the evening, and as expected, Carisi’s meal tasted excellently, better than anything I could’ve prepared.

“Carisi, you can add another career to your repertoire, professional chef,” I complimented as we were all cleaning up.

“Oh no, it must be the apocalypse if Barbas complimenting Carisi,” Fin stated blandly, and I huffed, asserting that I wasn’t that bad.

That cued a slew of examples where I’d taken digs at the younger detective, reluctant to even admit he was right.

“I guess I am a bit of an asshole,” I admitted sheepishly.

“More like smart ass,” Rollins stated, sharing a look with Olivia.

“Remember the first day we met?” Rollins asked to which Olivia laughed and I groaned.

“Damn, I’d hoped you’d have forgotten about that,” I bemoaned in embarrassment.

“The second he saw us before we’d even been introduced, he’d quipped to Captain Harris, ‘Bring your daughters to work day?’” Rollins recounted with a laugh, eliciting laughter from the others.

“Quite the first impression, huh, Counselor?” Carisi teased.

“Oh, no, it gets better,” Olivia spoke in amusement. “His first trial with us, this genius takes off his belt, loops it around his neck and gets the suspect on the stand to choke him with it. Harris was right when he said you had big brass…ego,” she said, giving me a wink.

“No way!” Carisi exclaimed in shock. “And the judge allowed it? Who was the defense attorney? They didn’t object?”

“Rita was the defense attorney and yeah she objected, but I argued that as an average joe, I and some of the jury would like to understand the excitement behind choking someone with a belt during sex,” I recounted, smiling reminiscently. Honestly, I was shocked that not only I’d been allowed to go through with the stunt, but that it’d also worked. It had been one of, if not the most reckless thing I’d ever done in court.”

“Wish I coulda seen that,” Carisi groaned while the others continued to expand on the trial and the crime that led to it.

“Let me just say that he earned my respect,” Olivia stated, walking over and nudging me with her shoulder. “I honestly hadn’t been too impressed with you due to how harsh you’d been with the victim, but you did good.”

“Of course I did,” I stated cockily, earning me some groans and good-natured ribbing.

As the night went on, and the children had been put to sleep in my guest room, the conversation turned serious.

“I informed Holmes that I’ll testify on the rape case again, and that if necessary, I’ll also testify about the assault,” I informed the group, noting that they all looked pleased with my decision.

“There’s no way Manuel will get away with either charge now,” Carisi stated with absolute certainty.

I shook my head negatively as I said, “Don’t get overconfident. Manuel has always had extraordinary luck and Buchanan has had extra time to come up with a better defense regarding the rape. For all I know he could convince the jury that my testimony is the ramblings of a son who hates his father.”

“For someone whose cockiness can sometimes be a _tad_ bit annoying, I think this self-doubt is even more so,” Rollins stated, giving me a pointed look laced with humor.

“You don’t know him like I do,” I argued firmly, and she gave a nod of acknowledgement, humor vanishing.

“You’re right, we don’t,” Liv spoke up, “but we do know the law, just as you do, and both cases against Manuel are strong. Holmes is an excellent prosecutor; you’ve admitted that yourself before.”

“And your testimony is damning,” Carisi stated with continued confidence. “I saw a few of the jurors glaring at Manuel after you testified, and I’ve got no doubt it’ll be the same this time.”

I hummed, still unconvinced.

“Listen,” I felt the need to say, “if _he_ gets out at any time, even on bail, I need you guys to watch your backs. I know you can take care of yourself, but Manuel is going to be furious with me and looking to lash out. Obviously, he himself is no danger to you, but it wouldn’t shock me if he knew people who could,” I warned.

“I dare that old bastard to try anything,” Fin growled. “I will lay him out, don’t care how old he is.”

“Fin,” Liv called scoldingly before addressing me. “I’m confident he won’t get out anytime soon, but if he does, we’ll be careful.”

I gave her a grateful look, feeling some tension leave me. I knew they were all more than capable of defending themselves, but I still worried. I would never forgive myself if he hurt any of them, or god forbid, Noah or Jessie.

“Thank you,” I told them, “for everything you’ve done to help me. I—it’s, um…,” I trailed off with a blush, unable to verbalize what I wanted to say.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Fin teased, garnering a laugh from the room. “We get it, though,” the older man then stated, and I smiled appreciatively.

“Anyways,” I added, “I’ll get myself under control as soon as possible so I can get back to work. I don’t trust whatever ADA McCoy has stuck you with.”

“Of course, you don’t,” Liv remarked amusedly.

“Well, he ain’t wrong. I don’t trust the guy they stuck us with either,” Carisi spoke up. “He’s too damn careful. No brawn. Wants a perfect case handed his way.”

“They always do,” Liv stated knowingly. “It’s a learning curve when you work with SVU. Lord knows it took ages to train you, Rafa.”

“Did not,” I protested. “I rocked it from the beginning. That’s how awesome I am,” I boasted.

“There’s the cocky counselor we all know and love,” Rollins declared with a grin.

“All joking aside, though, take all the time you need, Rafael,” Livia told me. “What you’ve been through and are going through isn’t easy, and it takes time to heal. Rushing back too soon can be detrimental,” she warned kindly.

I frowned, knowing that some point soon she’d be pushing for me to see a therapist again.

“She’s right,” Rollins asserted. “A break can do wonders for healing mental health. A vacation might be a good idea.”

“I’ll think about it,” I allowed, knowing both she and Olivia were speaking from experience. I wasn’t so sure a break would do me any good, though. What would I do with all my free time? My mind needed to keep busy otherwise I’d go crazy.

“Changing subject, there is something I’d like to know,” Fin announced, a glint of humor in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I saw your overnight bag here, Lieu, so is there something you two wanna share with us?” He raised suggestive eyebrows, and I rolled my eyes.

“Are you two dating?” Rollins burst out, eyes gleaming with excitement while Carisi grumbled about having lost a bet.

“What bet?” I asked Carisi at the same time Olivia rhetorically asked, “What if we are?”

“Hahaha!” Fin laughed aloud, clapping his hands as he then said, “It’s about damn time.”

I looked over at Olivia, raising a questioning eyebrow to see if she was okay with them knowing. She simply shrugged as if to say they would’ve found out anyways. They were detectives, after all.

Sighing, I settled for asking, “Who won the bet, then?”

Carisi turned thoughtful before narrowing his eyes at Fin, who looked smug.

“Pay up, suckers,” the sergeant declared, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Olivia stared at Fin with exasperation before rolling her eyes while mumbling, “I don’t know why I’m so surprised.”

“Rita told me last week about this,” I informed her, and she raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged as I said, “I forgot about it until today,” in explanation as to why I hadn’t informed her.

“As happy as I am for you two, does this mean we’re gonna get stuck with this new ADA?” Carisi asked unhappily. “You’re both going to have to disclose, aren’t you?”

Liv and I exchanged guilty looks, neither one of us having actually considered this. I couldn’t imagine not working with her, but if I had to choose between being with her or working with her, the answer was obvious.

“We haven’t really discussed it yet,” I answered Carisi. “It’s all pretty recent.”

Olivia and I endured more teasing as the night went on, but I found it didn’t really bother me much, especially as every time I looked at Olivia her eyes held nothing but love as she looked at me. I would endure anything for her.

By the time everyone headed home, it was nearing 3AM. As I stood at the door to the guest room, I held Olivia in my arms, wishing I could ask her to sleep with me, but not wanting Noah to wake up and be scared by unfamiliar surroundings. 

She kissed me softly on the lips before bidding me goodnight and getting into bed with her son. I watched until she turned the light off, and then made the way to my own room. For the second night in a row, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews!! So glad you’ve been enjoying my first SVU fic. We’re nearing the end, and there may only be one chapter left. We’ll see, though. Please continue to read and review!** ****


	13. End

**Chapter 13: End**

Weeks went by and once again it was time for me to testify in the rape trial against my father. Unlike last time, though, Olivia was here to help me get ready and keep calm.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I really shouldn’t be, right? I mean, I’ve done this already, so it can’t be any worse than last time. Yeah, I haven’t seen the old fuck since he royally kicked my ass, but big deal. I’m not afraid of him. Why would I need to be afraid of him? It’s not like he’s scary or anything. He’s just an angry, perverted, old man who”—my ramblings were cut off by a kiss to my lips.

Olivia’s lips were on mine, her arms around my neck as she pushed me until I was leaning against my bathroom counter. Her tongue probed my lips, and I gladly opened my mouth. Having her in my arms I felt all tension leave me, my rapid heart rate steadying as we explored each other’s mouths. When we finally broke apart we were both gasping for breath, my thoughts firmly distracted.

“Better?” Liv asked coyly.

I nodded, a hum of contentment escaping me before I graced her with an apologetic expression.

“Now, let’s get you dressed and ready because we need to leave in twenty minutes,” she stated, beginning to button up my dress shirt. As I was tucking it into my pants, she went and grabbed the suspenders and tie I’d had laid out, helping me put them on. She ended up even tying my tie when my hands began to tremble from nerves.

Neither one of us spoke again, Liv simply using looks and touches to keep me calm.

“ _Mami_ will be there,” I remarked, my breath coming out shakily.

 _Por Dios_ , I needed to get myself under control.

“She will, but so will I, Fin, Carisi, Rollins, and Rita,” she reassured, giving my hand a squeeze. “We’ll be there every step of the way.”

I put her hand to my lips, giving it a kiss.

 _"Te amo,”_ I told her emotionally.

“Love you too,” Liv replied with a beautiful smile that caused my heart to burst with happiness.

We’d been _official_ since the night I’d had the team over for dinner and I’d been somewhat surprised by how little had changed. Our routines and behavior with each other were nearly identical, with the exception of it being more hands on.

Going from friends to being in a relationship had occurred so seamlessly that we both wondered why we’d waited so long. We’d laughed as we each admitted fear of ruining our friendship as the main reason behind hesitating to pursue a relationship.

“How long have you been crushing on me?” I asked with a smirk as we lay side by side on my bed.

She rolled her eyes before replying, “I’ll admit that I found you attractive from the beginning, but it took time before I started to fall for you. It wasn’t planned, and I honestly tried not to,” she admitted with a grin, “but the more time we spent together the more feelings I started to have for you. You’re my best friend, Rafa, and I love spending time with you. You’re funny, kind, intelligent, and extraordinarily handsome,” she stated, her hand sliding up my bare chest, which caused me to shiver.

“I love you,” she declared, her beautiful brown eyes boring into mine. “The cocky grin you get when bantering with other ADAs. The way your brow crinkles when you’re concentrating. The way you twirl your pen with your fingers as you work. The way you make yourself comfortable wherever you go, throwing your feet up like you don’t care. Your compassion for victims. How hard you work to find justice for them. The hurdles you’ve crossed and lines you’ve toed…I love everything about you.”

She moved right up against me and kissed me on the lips, running a hand through my hair and down the side of my face.

“I love your smile, your hair, those gorgeous green eyes, and the way those fancy suits hug your body,” she continued softly, pausing momentarily before slyly adding, “and I love how you look _without_ clothes.”

I chuckled, throwing one bare leg over hers while wrapping an arm around her waist before pulling her in for a sensual kiss.

“How long have you been crushing on _me_?” Olivia eventually asked in return, and I placed a light kiss on her nose as I thought over my answer.

“It seems like forever,” I mused aloud before answering more seriously. “Like you, I found you attractive from the second I laid eyes on you, but I too did the best I could to resist.”

I reached out to gently tuck a strand of her hair behind her ears as I quietly said, “You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and it was mere months before I found myself falling for you.” Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

“You were the first person in a while to challenge me, and I’ve grown both as a professional and person because of you. I never was one to coddle or care much for those I defended, caring more about winning than anything,” I admitted abashedly.

“Seeing your compassion and how hard you fought for every victim, even when others or even I pushed you to drop cases or let them go was inspiring,” I said with a bit of awe. “Your drive to seek justice is stirring and heartening as is your ability to overcome every hurdle thrown your way. You are a brilliant Lieutenant and the best mother, a mother any child would be blessed to have.”

“You were beautiful from the day we met, but somehow over the years you’ve become even more beautiful,” I expressed lovingly. I grabbed hold of her hand with one of mine, threading my fingers through hers before bringing it to my chest.

“We’ve barely begun dating, but already my heart is yours,” I declared emotionally. “ _Eres el amor de mi vida y no puedo imaginar mi vida sin ti,”_ I confessed, bringing her hand up to my lips.

“I hope to God that this relationship works, but if it doesn’t, I promise that you will not lose my friendship,” I asserted firmly, my eyes boring into hers. “Unless you order me away, and perhaps not even then, I will always be there for you, whether as a lover, husband, or simply a friend.”

“Rafa,” Liv whispered, eyes bright with unshed tears. She seemed struck mute, unable to formulate a proper response, but I understood. I saw how touched she was by my words, and I saw the relief. Like me, she’d always feared losing our friendship if our relationship didn’t work.

“Ditto,” she eventually managed with a watery chuckle, cuddling up close to me.

I hugged her tight, feeling more content and whole than I had in my entire life. I’d been serious when I’d told her she was the love of my life. There would never be another woman I loved more. She was my soulmate, but if I wasn’t hers, then I would let her go as painful as that would be.

Mind returning to the present, I realized we’d arrived at the courthouse. Getting out of the car, Olivia pulled me into her arms, giving me a look full of love and confidence before letting go.

We went our separate ways once entering the building, and I anxiously awaited my turn to testify. My heart beat rapidly as I paced around the small waiting room. I ignored any attempt of other witnesses for different cases to speak with me, my mind wholeheartedly focused on what I was going to say.

When I was finally called, I steeled my shoulders, steps purposeful as I entered the courtroom. I graced my friends with a tight smile that loosened at the kind, encouraging looks I received in response. I then bravely and stupidly looked over towards _Mami_ , heart twisting when she didn’t even glance my way.

As I sat in the witness stand, I finally looked over at Manuel, and had to stop myself from allowing surprise to show on my face. He looked awful. He’d been in prison mere weeks, but it was clear he’d lost weight, and his hair somehow seemed thinner. His face was pale, making the bruised eye stand out even more. He didn’t have the cane even though it seemed he might actually need it now.

My emotions fluctuated between satisfaction at seeing him so miserable and pity. Looking into his hate filled eyes, it was hard not to lean more towards satisfaction.

My attention then focused on Holmes, who began going through the same questions as the last time I testified. I gave similar answers as before, still refusing to expand much on the specifics of the abuse I’d suffered. It wasn’t relevant to the rape case.

“Thank you, Rafael, I realize it can’t be easy to talk about this, especially for the second time. Now, I have a few more question if you don’t mind,” he asked for show, conveying to the jury the toll my testimony must be taking on me.

“Would you please tell the court what happened after your last testimony?” Holmes questioned sympathetically.

I inhaled a deep breath, flicking my eyes to Manuel, noting how tense his body was. His face was red, and he failed to keep the glare off his face. I had to fight the urge to smirk.

“When I left the courtroom, I went to the restroom, where I was confronted by my father. He berated, insulted, and threatened me for what I said, even threatening my friends. I…,” I paused, shifting uncomfortably before confessing, “I threw the first punch in anger at which point he proceeded to beat me until others came and stopped him.”

“So, to clarify, Mr. Barba confronted you in anger because you testified about the abuse you’d suffered?” Holmes questioned, and I responded with a short, “Yes.”

“What injuries did you sustain?” was the next question.

“Objection,” Buchanan exclaimed. “I don’t see the purpose of this line of questioning. We’re here to discuss a rape case not to discuss allegations of assault.”

“Sustained,” the judge responded to which Holmes nodded and said, “No more questions.”

Buchanan stood up, making his way towards me, and I was surprised to note not just sympathy, but apology as well. When I gave him a questioning look, his mask of professionalism was back in place, a fake smile adorning his face.

“I’m sorry about the injuries you suffered, but I have to ask, Rafael, how can we know that what you say is true?” he asked. “You claim your father attacked you because of your testimony, but you also admit that you threw the first punch. How do we know you weren’t fighting back the entire time?”

I’d anticipated this line of questioning, but it didn’t stop the indignancy I felt.

“You don’t,” I replied honestly, frowning deeply, “but what reason do I have to lie? What reason do I have to stand up here and talk about my childhood? Why do any of this if it wasn’t true?” I asked, tears forming in my eyes as emotions began to get the better of me. It was if they were suddenly boiling, ready to break the surface with the slightest bit of heat.

“Because you don’t like him, and would love to see him put in prison,” Buchanan replied, his tone and expression making it seem like it was obvious why I was here.

Anger suddenly surged through me. How dare he ask me that? Did he think I wanted to be here? Did he think I enjoyed this? I’d had to confess in front of friends, people I worked with, and strangers my embarrassing past. I’d gotten my ass kicked in public. My relationship with _Mami_ was ruined, probably irrevocably. Even if she apologized, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to trust her completely as I once had.

Standing up, I slammed my hand down on the stand loudly, startling everyone.

“Order! Order!” the judge yelled, knocking down her gavel. Ignoring her completely, I glared first at Buchanan and then at Manuel.

“I _never_ wanted to do this,” I hissed, body beginning to shake with suppressed rage. It was as if all the anger I’d been burying was bursting out.

“Yes, I absolutely _abhor_ my father, but only because of how abusive he was to both me and my mom. She continues to deny it, but I won’t,” I declared hotly. “I know without a doubt that he raped that girl because he is a man who won’t take no for an answer. He’s always been a womanizer, but he’s come to realize that he’s nothing but a pathetic old man now! I told the truth last time, and was beaten bloody, publicly humiliated in front of friends and coworkers! No one will look at me the same or treat me the same because of what they’ve heard and saw!” I roared, breathing heavily as I desperately tried to fight back tears.

“Order! Mr. Barba!” the judge addressed, sounding scandalized. “Mr. Barba, get yourself under control or you will be removed from the courtroom,” she threatened, but I barely heard her.

“My life has been hell ever since this trial started,” I continued fiercely. “I have no reason to lie!”

“ _Rafael_ Barba!” the judge yelled, her gavel knocking louder than I’d ever heard. I flinched horribly, eyes wide as I stared at her, shocked by not just her tone but my own actions.

 _Mierda_. What did I just do?

Looking around, I noticed Holmes was right next to me, his hand on my shoulder, Buchanan staring at me apologetically once more. Had he planned this? Had he purposefully pushed me to an outburst like this? Why?

“I’m sorry, your Honor,” I apologized in embarrassment, all the anger I’d felt having disappeared in an instant. The judge looked at me with an expression showing disbelief, anger, concern, and sympathy.

“Another outburst like that, and you will be held in contempt and removed from this court, do you understand me?” she asked sternly, and I felt my cheeks warm as I nodded.

A loud laugh garnered all our attention, and we turned to see it was Manuel.

“And you say I’m the one with the temper?” he scoffed with a shake of his head. “How can you believe anything that _boy_ says when he’s clearly over emotional? He’s been a liar his whole life, and now he’s trying to ruin my life with those lies. He loves attention!”

“For goodness sake! Order! Order in the court! We are now in recess while both counselors get their clients under control,” she declared exasperatedly. “We’ll reconvene after lunch.”

“I actually have no more questions for this witness,” Buchanan informed the judge, and I was once more surprised by the defense attorney. What was he doing?

I allowed Holmes to lead me out, and when we were alone, I immediately apologized for my outburst.

“I know it was completely unprofessional, and I”—

“It’s fine, Rafael,” Holmes assured me with a small smile. “I understand, and honestly, you probably helped the case. The jury saw raw emotion, and as you explained, you wouldn’t have put yourself in this position if what you had to say wasn’t important and true.”

I felt some relief at his words, relief that only mounted when I heard Olivia call out my name.

She and I both rushed towards each other, and I gratefully accepted her hug, resting my head on her shoulder.

“You did so well,” she praised, “and you had all the right to snap at Buchanan like that. Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I lost my temper. Overreacted,” I mumbled, cheeks reddening in remembrance. She caressed the back of my head, continuing to reassure me that I did well and had no reason to feel embarrassed.

Hearing more approaching footsteps, I pulled away, not wanting others to see me being comforted.

The squad and Rita approached, all looking concerned, which caused me to groan internally. Cheeks reddening once more, I gave them all a sheepish look.

“There ain’t no way he’s getting away with the rape, not after that testimony,” Carisi spoke confidently, bumping his shoulder with mine.

“You did good, Barba. Should’ve seen how everybody jumped when you slammed your hand down. Pretty funny,” Fin commented with a crooked grin, and I rolled my eyes with a huff.

“And the way Manuel responded?” Rollins asked rhetorically. “His outburst was more damning than anything.”

“I don’t know,” I replied doubtfully. “Did you see how frail he looks? The jury may doubt he has the strength or ability to rape anyone.”

“Have a little faith in me, will you,” Holmes stated. “I know what I’m doing.”

I quirked a grin at the other man, giving him a nod of acknowledgment. Holmes then excused himself, citing the need to prep for the next witness. Rollins volunteered to go keep the witness company, while Liv ordered Carisi and Fin back to the station to get started on a new case they’d been given yesterday.

Turning to Rita, I impulsively stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her, whispering a sincere thank you into her ear before giving her an overdramatic kiss to the cheek, delighting in her noises of disgust and protest. Pulling away, I gave her a boyish grin as she wiped at her cheek and graced me with an angry look that didn’t reach her eyes. If she wanted to treat me like a little brother, then I was entitled to act like one, I thought amusedly.

“You’ve only grown more annoying and incorrigible the older you’ve gotten, Barba,” she complained in exasperation, sniffing loudly before looking at me with pursed lips. Despite her obvious anger and annoyance, I could tell from her eyes that she felt more embarrassed and touched than anything. 

“You know your life wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining and fulfilling without me,” I bragged, rocking back and forth on my feet.

She snorted, rolling her eyes as she turned her head away, but I saw the small smile she attempted to hide.

“Well, clearly I’m no longer needed,” she remarked, glaring at me for no reason before looking to Liv.

“Keep him on a tight leash, Lieutenant, he attracts trouble like a magnet,” she informed Liv before shooting me a stern look.

“I do not,” I protested, but she just smirked before leaving.

A light laugh caused me to turn and look at Liv. She smiled lovingly, intertwining her hand with mine before stepping forward and giving me a quick kiss to the lips.

“You plan on staying for the rest of the trial?” she inquired, and I shook my head negatively.

“I know you’ll keep me informed. I need to go meet with Carmen and start getting some work done so I can convince McCoy to let me come back. I’m going stir crazy at home,” I stated.

She wished me luck, and I was pleased she didn’t try to convince me to stay or try and talk me out of coming back to work. She trusted me to know my limits.

We were both headed for a quick lunch when we noticed _Mami_ approaching. My entire body tensed as I prepared for a fight. Olivia stood right next to me so that our shoulders brushed as a form of comfort and solidarity.

 _Mami’s_ approach slowed and became cautious when her eyes settled on Liv, and looking at my love, I noticed her hard almost threatening expression. I had to smile at her protectiveness and found myself relaxing.

“ _Mijo, podemos hablar…solos?”_ she asked, obviously unnerved by Olivia.

I was going to agree when Liv gripped my hand tightly, her expression pleading.

“ _Lo siento, Mami_ , but I think it’d be best if we didn’t speak alone,” I told her, wondering if it was the right decision when her face fell.

“Do you mind if I say something?” Liv asked me, and I gave her a curious look as I nodded.

Her expression hardened once more as she turned to my mother and began to speak. “Mrs. Barba, I’m going to be frank when I say I am both appalled and disgusted with how you’ve treated your son. I’m a mother myself with my own son, and I know that I would _never_ harm him or allow him for even a second doubt my love for him; so, unless you’re here to apologize, then I suggest you walk away.”

I felt a surge of gratefulness towards her for saying what I’d never be able to.

Looking at _Mami_ , I was unhappy yet unsurprised to see her discomfort vanish to be replaced with anger.

“I don’t care if you’re a lieutenant for the NYPD, you have no right to speak to me like this,” she scolded, “and you have no right to tell me how to treat my son. _Dile_ , Rafi,” she urged me, “tell her she has no right to interfere in our relationship.”

“No, _Mami_ ,” I asserted firmly, “I won’t tell her anything, because I agree with her. I’m extremely hurt by how you’ve stubbornly chosen to believe Manuel over me, and I’m not going to open myself to any more insults or scolding from you. _Te amo, Mami_ , and I will _always_ love you, but I won’t allow you to emotionally manipulate or hurt me anymore, so as Liv said, unless you’re here to apologize, then I’d appreciate if you’d just walk away.”

The anger that’d been in _Mami’s_ eyes seemed to drain out of her, regret, hurt, and exhaustion replacing it. With eyes full of tears, she approached me, slowly reaching her hand out towards me, pausing before she actually touched me as if asking for permission. My eyes softened as I leaned into her touch, allowing her to gently caress my cheek.

“You may not believe it, but I love you more than life itself,” she spoke emotionally. “You’ve grown into such a strong and handsome man, and I am so proud of you. A part of me will never stop seeing you as my little boy, _mi niñito, mi bebé_. I always wanted to protect you, but I realize now that I failed you horribly. I let a man I love hurt you over and over again. I let him drive a wedge between us, and _lo siento muchísimo_ ,” she apologized genuinely, her two hands gripping my arms gently.

I listened intently, neither pleased nor displeased with what she was saying. She loved me, that was obvious, but I also knew she had more to say.

“Sweet words,” Olivia remarked guardedly, “but let’s get to the point. Do you still intend to stand by Manuel?”

I felt my muscles tense once more as I anxiously awaited her response. Indecision fluttered across _Mami’s_ face, and I was surprised that she didn’t immediately side with the abusive bastard.

“I don’t—Rafael, you have to understand that we’ve been together since before I graduated high school,” she attempted to explain, much to my disappointment. “He’s always been this way, and I accepted long ago that this is how things are. You may not believe it, but he does love me. He can be sweet and tender.”

“And he can be cruel, manipulative, and abusive,” Liv spoke up, sounding sympathetic for the first time since the conversation began. “Mrs. Barba, I’ve seen so many relationships like this, and they almost always end badly.”

“You need not worry about that, Lieutenant, because I have no doubt after today that he will be going to prison for a very long time,” _Mami_ stated bitterly, swiping away at a stray tear. “I will be all alone.”

“You don’t have to be,” I argued quietly, placing one of my hands on top of hers. “You are my _madre_ , and nothing will ever change that. Our relationship is strained now, but it doesn’t have to end this way. I love you, and I still want you to be a part of my life.”

 _Mami_ managed a small smile at my words, but it quickly fell as she pulled her hand away from mine.

“ _Necesito tiempo_ ,” she stated, taking a step away from me. “I am still hurt and even angry at how you are part of the reason I will be losing Manny. I know it’s wrong to blame you, but your decisions…they’ve only worked to hurt me.”

Hurt flooded through me, and I knew she wasn’t just referring to Manuel. I knew no matter what she’d said before that she blamed me on some level for _Abuelita’s_ death. I’d been the one to push for her to be moved to a nursing home even though she hadn’t wanted to. _Mami_ had been against it, but I’d convinced her that I knew best.

Looking down at the ground in guilt, I gave a single nod.

“I need to go,” _Mami_ now stated awkwardly. “ _Cuídate, Rafael_ ,” she urged with concern before turning and walking away.

“That could’ve gone better,” I muttered thickly, feeling tears beginning to prick my eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Liv stated, immediately wrapping her arms around me.

“I know this wasn’t how you wanted the conversation to go but try and focus on the fact that she does love you,” Liv spoke encouragingly. “She’s hurting and lost right now, and it’s so easy to blame you. With time, I think she’ll begin to see things more clearly.”

I nodded even though I wasn’t sure that was true.

“You should get to court,” I mumbled, reluctantly letting go.

“How about we cancel both our plans and just get out of here?” she asked, and I immediately nodded my head, a relieved smile adorning my face. I told myself I should argue, but I didn’t want to. I should tell her I had work to do, but honestly it could wait. I should tell her the victim needed her, but I needed her too. In the end, I gave in to my own needs, and happily accepted her company.

Manuel’s trial went on another week, and with every update from Liv, I knew without a doubt that he’d be found guilty. The only question, then, was how long he’d be put away for.

It took mere hours for the jury to convict Manuel of second-degree rape, and then he was sentenced to 25 years without the possibility of parole. With how old he was, it was doubtful he’d live to see the light of day. I almost felt sorry for the man, but it’d quickly been squashed when he’d begun to yell out threats to both me and the victim, Sara, promising he’d make us pay. I didn’t bother responding, or even gracing the man with a look. I simply left, sparing only a look of sympathy at my tearful mother before stepping out the courtroom.

Liv and the rest of the SVU squad joined me, satisfied nods on all their faces. They were all planning on celebratory drinks when I spotted Buchanan leaving. Recalling his expression when he’d been questioning me, I decided now would be a good time to confront him.

“Give me a moment,” I whispered to Liv before jogging over to the defense attorney.

“Buchanan,” I called out, and the man let out a sigh as he stopped.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Buchanan spoke with a small smile, and I shot him a befuddled look.

Deciding not to beat around the bush, I outright asked, “Did you want to lose the case?”

Buchanan immediately looked outraged by my question, so I hurriedly spoke before he could. “When you questioned me, I saw the look on your face. You were apologizing. You were concerned. Did you push my buttons on purpose? Did you want me to lose control?”

The older man’s face was blank, but I could see indecision in his eyes as if he were deciding whether to be honest with me or not. Eventually, he let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand on his face before giving me a serious look.

“Consider it a professional courtesy that will _never ever_ happen again or be spoken of again,” was all he said, giving me a pat to the arm before walking away. I stared after him, completely shocked and taken aback. I still had no idea why he’d done it, but unfortunately, I knew I’d never get a response. It seemed I would have to settle for being grateful.

“What did he say?” Olivia pressed curiously when I returned to her.

“Professional courtesy,” I replied, giving her a shrug.

“Huh, seems there’s a heart in there somewhere,” she stated, and I nodded in agreement before deciding to just let the matter go.

In fact, it was time to let the entire case go. It was over, and I’d made it through stronger and happier than when I’d started. My relationships with all my friends were stronger than ever. They’d proved how much they cared, and I would be eternally grateful. Best of all, Olivia and I were in a relationship, and I couldn’t be happier. Yes, things still weren’t good with _Mami_ , but I had faith now that they would eventually improve. It’d take time, but we both loved each other, and that would allow us to overcome any hurt we’d caused.

Staring first at Olivia and then at Fin, Carisi, and Rollins, I recalled what Olivia had told me weeks ago when I’d fallen apart in front of her. Blood isn’t everything, and family could be what you wanted it to be, and right now, this was my family.

**A/N: This is officially the end of my first SVU story, and I want to thank everyone whose stuck around, especially those who have faithfully reviewed. Hope you are satisfied with the ending, even if it may have been a bit rushed. I was running out of ideas, so I thought it best to just finish it. Currently thinking over what my next story could be. I’m a sucker for Barba whump, and I’ve an evil thought that it’d be interesting to explore what could happen if he was subjected to torture, the kind that Frederick Chilton suffered in season 1 of Hannibal. The trauma that would induce would be terrible, but it would also lead to a lot of hurt/comfort from Olivia and company. <Shrug> We’ll see if this comes to fruition. **


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